


Building From the Ground Up

by chocolatewithnuts



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Background Soriel and Alphyne, F/M, Female Reader, Friends to Lovers, Gen, No Use of Y/N or any other placeholders, POV Second Person, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route, Reader Is Not Chara (Undertale), Reader Is Not Frisk (Undertale), Reader has relationship anxiety, Reader will develop friendships with Sans Papyrus Alphys & Blooky, Reader-Insert, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:00:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 27,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25471291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chocolatewithnuts/pseuds/chocolatewithnuts
Summary: You are an architect who moves into a predominantly monster neighborhood. You have started working for yourself, and you reach your luckiest break when Mettaton hires you to design The MTT Nightclub. While working together, your relationship with him extends beyond professional.[Rated T for now, may go up to M later.]
Relationships: Mettaton (Undertale)/Reader, Napstablook (Undertale) & Reader, Papyrus (Undertale) & Reader, Sans (Undertale) & Reader
Comments: 20
Kudos: 41





	1. Settling In

**Author's Note:**

> Greetings. I played Undertale and now I’ve fallen down a Mettaton-shaped rabbit hole. I can’t seem to find the way out.
> 
> While Sans/Reader fics have started an empire on AO3, crickets are chirping in the Mettaton/Reader tag. I love Sans to death, but it’s hilarious to me how the fandom turned a tiny skeleton man with a Patrick Star voice into the game‘s sex symbol, while the sultry Bowie-esque robot is kind of tossed to the side.
> 
> All joking aside, I’m using this project as an opportunity to flesh out Mettaton’s character beyond him being a sexy entertainment bot. I think there’s more substance to him than some fans give him credit for, so this fic will showcase both his strengths, weaknesses, and complexities alike. Hope you enjoy. Comments are much appreciated.
> 
> Chapter 1: You start to settle in the neighborhood and become friends with Sans and Napstablook. While you're at the latter's place, you meet a certain rectangular someone who may become your first client as a newly self-employed architect.

This was it. You had been planning this for years, and now you had the life you truly wanted.

You loved being an architect. But a few years in, a nagging feeling in the back of your mind had started bugging you. It was trying to tell you that you weren’t satisfied with the way things were going in your career. For a long time, you weren’t able to figure out what exactly was wrong, so you pushed that uncomfortable feeling aside. After all, you had many duties to fulfill, and getting things done was more important than listening to what your heart wanted.

But as time went on, all your frustrations began to build up piece-by-piece. Getting stuck in traffic twice a day, five days a week. The headaches from having to deal with stubborn coworkers. HR stepping in when employees couldn’t let things go between each other, no matter how small. Feeling like a small cog in the machine, knowing that your ideas were merely a sliver of the final product.

You met some great people from working at a variety of design firms. But ultimately, you found that you worked best alone. You had enough experience, awards, and write-ups from working in the field to feel confident enough in your ability to pursue self-employment. The biggest things you’d miss about working at a firm, though, would be getting feedback from teammates and bouncing ideas off of them. Still, you could replace that by doing double the amount of research to see what other people have done. After all, that method of finding different possibilities for your designs hasn’t failed you in the past.

You were moving into Ebott Grove today. It was a monster town right by Mt Ebott, where they all used to live Underground. You decided to call Ebott Grove your new home because monster culture intrigued you. Back when you were still living in Sky City, you had travelled to Ebott Grove a couple of times. At the end of one street, you had found an empty piece of land right by the entrance of a beautiful trail. Seeing it gave you the idea to have your dream home built right there, so you decided to make it happen. You settled on a 600 square foot cottage-style home with one bedroom, one bathroom, and an office. It was smaller than the other houses you’ve lived in, but you wanted to cut down on space to save money and stress.

Your house was still in the beginning phase of construction. For now, you were staying at an Airbnb until your house was all done. You moved into Ebott Grove early to avoid taking the hour-long commute to the construction site every week. As an architect, you had to take weekly visits to the construction sites to ensure the developers were doing their job correctly. You didn’t mind those commutes as much as the ones to your old design firms, because you wouldn’t be stuck in an office all day once you got out of the car. Working from home was so much better.

You checked the time. It was 11:30AM. You had an hour to kill before you could check in to your Airbnb. 

As you aimlessly trudged along the streets with your luggage, you noticed a building with ‘GRILLBY’S’ spelled in large orange letters. You recognized it from your research on the Underground; it was the famous diner from Snowdin, and you were curious to try it for yourself.

The scent of fried food hit your senses as soon as you opened the door. As you walked in and looked around, you became hyperaware of the disproportionate ratio between monsters and humans. Out of everyone in the restaurant, you could only spot two other humans. There was an ache in your gut that told you maybe you shouldn’t have moved here, there was no way you would fit in, you were welcome here but only begrudgingly—

But then an elderly bunny couple smiled at you as you searched for a vacant seat. You smiled back at them, feeling the knot in your stomach disappear.

You found an empty cushioned stool at the bar and took a seat. A flame monster working behind the table wordlessly handed you a laminated menu. You thanked him and began looking over it. There was a whole section dedicated to human food, and you felt even more ridiculous for worrying you wouldn’t belong here. You mulled over what you were in the mood to eat, until people’s chatter began to grow louder. You could barely focus on reading the menu now, the sound of other people’s voices too powerful.

“Hey, Sans.”

“Hi, Sans.”

“Greetings, Sans!”

“Hiya, Sansy!”

You looked behind your seat and saw a small skeleton man going around and saying hello to everyone, his mischievous grin never faltering.

After greeting every customer except you, he stopped in the middle of the room, looking around the restaurant with his hands in his pockets. “hmm… i’ve got a _burning_ feeling that i’m missing someone here.”

People laughed, and you assumed he was making a pun about the flame monster at the bar. You watched the skeleton man. His every word and action seemed to be calculated. You had a feeling he _had_ actually seen you while going around and talking to everyone, and he was about to make a show of introducing himself to you. His eyes locked with yours, and he started to approach you. You sat still, bracing yourself for whatever impact he was going to make on you.

“hey there,” he said. “a little _birdy_ told me someone would be moving into the neighborhood.”

“A little birdy? You mean Queenie?” you asked, referring to your Airbnb host. She was a middle-aged bird monster who worked as a nurse.

“that’s her alright,” he replied. “she lives next door to me and my brother. you made the right choice to crash at her place; you’ll get to see me and my bro every day. lucky you, eh?”

You didn’t know how to respond to that, so you just watched as he hopped on to the empty seat next to yours. He looked directly at you, and extended his arm out for a handshake. “i’m sans. sans the skeleton.”

You were about to take a hold of his hand, until a human man sitting nearby blocked you and Sans. 

“NO! Don’t shake his hand!” the man yelled. “He’s tricking you, he’s got a whoopee cushion in his hand! I fell for it when I met him, and I was the laughingstock of the whole town for a week!”

“aw, jeez,” sans said as he retracted his hand, though he sounded more amused than disappointed. “welp, looks like superman swept in and saved the day.”

You chuckled and looked up at the man who saved you. “Thanks, Superman.”

He smiled at you meekly. “You’re welcome,” he said before walking back to his seat.

Sans sighed. “man, the whoopee cushion in hand trick is the oldest one in the book. never seen it fail ‘til today.”

“Well, that’s the problem,” you said. “Since it’s the oldest trick in the book, people like Superman are gonna see it coming. You should come up with something new to throw people off, like uh…”

You looked around the room, hoping to find inspiration for a potential prank. You spotted a jukebox in the corner, just below the TV hanging up on the wall. “Like asking someone what song they wanna play on the jukebox, and then putting on ‘Never Gonna Give You Up’ instead.”

Sans laughed. “good one, kiddo. i’ll have to try that sometime. probably on someone your age, they’d be more in touch with internet culture than an old guy like me. if i pulled that trick on an eldster, the joke would fly over their head. they’d probably get in the groove of the song and say, ‘oh, i remember dancing to this one with bertha at our senior prom. those were the days!’.”

During the last sentence, Sans did his best impression of an old man’s voice, slow-paced and throaty. You laughed wholeheartedly, impressed by how spot-on it was. Sans seemed happy that you were starting to look less tense around him.

“hey, i got so caught up in pranking you that i forgot to ask for your name,” Sans said once your laughter ceased. “what should i call ya?”

You told him your name and started introducing yourself. “I’m a self-employed architect. My dream house is under construction at the end of Merlot Avenue. It should be completed in only two months, it’s only 600 square feet.” 

“huh. since it’s your dream house, is ebott grove your dream location too?”

You nodded. “Monsterkind intrigues me. I’ve studied the history between monsters and humans, along with differences between our cultures. I like the way monsters approach life, you seem more appreciative of what you have and you know how to take care of each other.”

Sans nodded and closed his eyes. “yeah, well. when you’re trapped underground and you have to wait for your resources to fall from the surface, you learn how to make do with very little. and when you spend so much time with people in a tight-knit community, you start to understand them and anticipate their needs. for a long time, all we really had was each other.”

His words held a lot of weight to them, but his voice sounded so distant. You got the sense that he didn’t want to dig deeper into this topic because what he said had already summed it up well. You could only nod, feeling even more empathy for monsters.

“anyway,” Sans interjected as though he hadn’t just poured his heart out. “what do you wanna eat, kiddo?”

There had been so much going on, you completely forgot you came here to eat. “Oh, uh—” you picked up your menu, quickly scanning through it. “I think a burger and fries will do.”

Sans flagged down Grillby, the flame monster, and told him both of your orders. After Grillby walked to the kitchen, you gazed at your surroundings as a nervous habit, looking at anything but Sans. Even though your first impression of him was good so far (despite his failed prank against you), it didn’t quell your uneasiness around new people. 

You stared up at the TV screen as an excuse to not make idle chit chat, watching a soap opera by the one and only Mettaton. He was in his box form, wearing a blue dress as he gave a dramatic soliloquy about his one true love. You smirked at the image of what was essentially a rectangle on a wheel, trying to pass off as a gorgeous damsel in distress.

Sans took notice of your amusement. “you a fan?”

You glanced over at him, having almost forgotten that he was there. “I don’t really keep up with Mettaton, to be honest. It’s kind of hard to not know what he’s up to though, since people can’t keep quiet about him. But I admire his ability to juggle all his TV shows along with his music, and he seems to have a shrewd sense of business.”

“heh. when we were all getting ready to move to the surface, mettaton hired me and my brother, papyrus, to become part of his moving crew.”

“Really? How did that go?”

“i’m not an MTT fan myself, but papyrus is. _big time_ ,” Sans said. “he was so excited to meet mettaton, and he caught the guy’s attention by showing off how strong he is. you shoulda seen it, my bro carried all those heavy pink cardboard boxes without breaking a sweat.”

“as for me? i was never supposed to be part of the crew, i only stopped by so i could drop off papyrus. but mettaton saw me standing among all the moving guys and must have thought i was one of ‘em, ‘cause he handed me a box to carry,” Sans’ grin grew more impish. “i only went along with it so my brother could get more bang for his buck.”

You smiled, delighted by how much Sans loved his brother. “That’s very sweet, actually.”

“now picture this,” Sans continued. “two skeleton brothers have just moved to the surface. the tall, younger one is at the pasta aisle in a grocery store, squealing about all the different kinds of pasta shapes he never got to see underground. there are humans giving him weird looks, but he doesn’t notice them at all. instead, he urges his brother to gather as many boxes of pasta as they can. with their carts full, they paid for everything with the money they made from working as mettaton’s one-off moving guys.”

It was a beautiful picture. You chuckled. “How endearing.”

Speaking of beauty, you looked up at the TV again and saw a commercial playing for Mettaton’s newest album. He was in his humanoid form, singing and prancing around stage with a pink microphone as the spotlight followed him. Despite not being a fan of his, you could understand why monsters and humans alike found him attractive. You couldn’t help but feel entranced by his graceful moves as he gave the camera a piercing look with his doe-like eyes. You were only snapped out of your Mettaton-induced trance when Grillby came and set down your and Sans’ food on the table.

Sans picked up the ketchup bottle and offered it to you. “you want some ketchup?”

You swore you saw a glint in his eye. But against your better judgment, you said yes because you genuinely did want some ketchup on your burger and fries.

Before Sans could open up the bottle and pour ketchup on your food, Grillby stepped in and shook his head, taking the bottle from Sans. You saw Sans frown as much as his perpetual grin could allow him.

“hey, grillby. what gives?”

You finally heard Grillby speak for the first time. “She’s right, you know,” he said, gesturing to you. “You should find some new tricks to play, Sans. Don’t pull the ketchup prank on her; it got old years ago, and it’s not funny anymore. Just let the young lady enjoy her food in peace.”

You raised a brow and watched as Grillby put away the ketchup bottle, grabbing a new one from under the table. He handed it to Sans rather than you, which made you feel like something was up. You ignored the feeling as Sans opened up the new bottle, aiming the nozzle right over your fries. He squeezed the bottle, and a disgustingly large goop of ketchup fell onto your fries.

Sans paused for a moment before slamming the ketchup bottle down with a guffaw. Luckily, the lid closed upon impact with the table. Sans glanced over at Grillby with a light in his eyes, his grip tightening on the bottle as he kept laughing.

“The first bottle wasn’t full enough,” Grillby said with a hint of a smile.

Sans took a moment to recollect himself before speaking. “wow, grillbz, didn’t know you could be so sly. this is the first time you’ve ever assisted me with a prank. i think we’ve reached a huge milestone in our friendship.”

Grillby nodded, and if he had any thoughts about seeing Sans as more of a regular customer than a friend, he didn’t voice them. He simply went back to the rack of dirty glasses, and began washing them with a rag.

You stared at your plate of fries that now looked more like a bloody crime scene. Under normal circumstances, you would have been irritated, but the fact that you enjoyed Sans’ company softened the blow.

“You know, I never pour ketchup directly onto my fries,” you said. “But this way, I don’t have to go through the effort of dipping them in ketchup first.”

You picked up a ketchup-smothered fry and looked at your fingers, scowling a little. “... Even though it’s a lot messier.” You shrugged and ate it before wiping your hand on a napkin.

“hey, ya don’t have to grin and bear it,” Sans piped in. “you can just switch with me.”

“Really?” you chuckled. “You like your fries drowning in ketchup?”

“i love ketchup, s’the good stuff. i drink it like humans drink water,” Sans replied as he moved his plate of fries in front of you, starting to eat the ketchup-laden ones.

“So you’ll die if you go four days without it?” you asked facetiously as you carefully poured ketchup by your new fries and onto your burger.

“you’ll die if you go four days without a glass of H2O?” Sans asked in an incredulous tone. “damn, didn’t know humans were that needy.”

“We’ll see who’s the needy one when I break into your house and steal your entire ketchup supply,” you smirked.

“then i’ll come over and steal all your water. eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth.”

You laughed. “Fine then, I won’t execute my evil plan.”

You and Sans ate in comfortable silence. After a commercial for MTT-Brand Bishie Cream finished up, Mettaton’s soap opera began to play again. You picked up more of the show’s storyline. It was just like Romeo and Juliet, but with a robosexual twist. Princess Mettaton defied his family’s orders to stay away from his suitor’s family; Mettaton was much too enamored with his lover to let any sort of vendetta stand in the way of their love. The robotic take on a Shakespearian classic was so absurd that you couldn’t peel your eyes away from the screen.

Before you knew it, you had finished your meal and the show was over. You looked over and saw Sans was done with his fries too.

“enjoyed the show?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’ve never actually sat down and watched any of Mettaton’s shows, so this was a first,” you said. “He’s actually a great actor. Even in his faceless rectangular form, he still finds ways to look expressive.”

“heh. in his EX form, he’s even more _EX_ pressive.”

You shook your head and tsked. “Well, with that low-hanging fruit of a pun, I think now’s a good time to pay and leave.”

Sans chuckled. “yeah, my lunch break’s almost over. gotta head back to work. speaking of, i left my wallet at the shop. mind footin’ the bill for me? it’s just 10000G.”

You smiled and shook your head. “We’ve only just met, but I’ve known you long enough to know that you’re shitting me.”

Sans laughed. “damn, ya caught me. next thing you know, you won’t fall for it when i tell ya it says ‘gullible’ on the ceiling.”

You smirked as he called out to Grillby. “hey grillby, put it on my tab, will ya?”

Grillby shot him a flaming thumbs up, and you were pleasantly surprised that a near-stranger would pay for your meal. 

“Thank you so much, Sans. I really appreciate it,” you said. “I’ll pay you back somehow.”

Sans waved his hand in the air. “don’t sweat it. s’the least i can do for you after putting up with my antics.”

“Well then, thank you for being so merciful,” you smirked.

“by the way, my bro will wanna meet you later. he’ll give you a tour of the neighborhood, he loves showing new people around.”

You smiled. “I’d really like that, I look forward to meeting him.”

“you two’ll hit it off, everyone loves papyrus,” Sans affirmed, and the pride he felt for his brother warmed your heart.” welp, i gotta go now. see you around, kiddo.”

“Bye Sans, see you later!”

He walked out of Grillby’s as you gathered your purse and pieces of luggage. You checked the time. 12:15PM. You typed in Queenie’s address onto your phone’s GPS, and saw it would be a 15-minute walk. Just in time for your 12:30 check-in.

***

Queenie had refined taste in decor. You had seen the pictures of your temporary bedroom on her Airbnb listing, but seeing the Rococo-inspired furniture in person was another story. The desk, chairs, closet, and bed were like fine china in furniture form—functional, but almost too elegant to use. You nearly felt bad when you laid down on the fancy bed after unpacking all your belongings, but you desperately needed rest.

You fell asleep, and you woke up more energized than usual the next day. You planned on going to the construction site of your new house to see how well the housing developers were following your blueprints.

On the walk there, you wondered who your first ever client would be now that you were self-employed. You had already made a name for yourself and you were well-respected within the region, so you figured it wouldn’t be long now until someone hired you.

From a couple blocks away, you could already hear the sounds of construction going on. You grimaced, feeling at fault for subjecting monster residents to all the noise. The guilt went away when you reminded yourself that you’d finally have your dream home, and construction would be going on for only a couple of months. Besides, there were other construction sites throughout town; you had seen builders working on a coffee shop and a bakery on Merchant Boulevard on your way to Queenie’s yesterday.

You finally reached the site of your future house. Some long panels of hardwood were laid down, while others were standing to take up the height of your house. The basic shape was already there, and most of the developers were focusing on the roof right now. You saw your green slime monster friend, Slima Bean, dressed in her hardhat and yellow vest. You had collaborated with her on several projects, and through all her hard work she had become one of your most trusted developers.

You both smiled when you saw each other. “Hey Beanie,” you greeted her, watching as she nailed pieces of wood together.

“Hiya, good morning!” she exclaimed. “Lovely day today, isn’t it?”

You were so wrapped up in your head thinking about your house and the future of your career, you never took a moment to stop and enjoy the weather. “Now that you mention it, it really is. It’s clear and sunny, but not too hot.”

“It’s quite temperate here. You chose the right place to move to,” she said. “You’ll rarely ever have to sweat buckets or freeze to death!”

You nodded. “Yeah, I put a lot of thought into choosing Ebott Grove specifically. It was too crowded and smoggy back in Sky City, I just had to get out. I’ve got a good feeling about starting a new life here, though.”

“It’s perfect for you! It’s so beautiful and charming here,” she beamed. “Oh by the way, the guys and I just wanted to confirm the measurements of your closet and your pantry. They’re both walk-ins, so they’re pretty much the same size, right? Or is one a little bit smaller than the other?”

“My closet is the larger one, but I’ll get my blueprints out for the exact measurements,” you said before reaching into your bag. You took out the binder you had for all the plans you made for your house. You opened up to your blueprints and answered Beanie’s question, along with other ones she asked. She soon went back to work, and you had casual conversation with a couple other developers when they took their breaks. You took pride in seeing their efficiency and teamwork, happy that they were the ones making your dream house come to life.

In the middle of talking about the project with one of the workers, you saw a ghost monster in the corner of your eye. They were floating far away at the corner of the street, watching the construction until they caught your eye. They looked alarmed and started leaving, never looking back.

You found that encounter odd, to say the least. The ghost didn’t seem menacing at all, but they looked questionable just loitering around the area. You shrugged it off, hoping that they were only curious to see what the source of all the noise was.

When you were ready to leave, you bid the developers a goodbye and said you’d stop by to check on them within the next week. 

You had saved some pocket change because you didn’t know how long it would be until you’d get your first client, so you decided to go to the market. Queenie had the fridge fully stocked, but there were still some other food items you wanted to get for yourself.

On your way there, you saw the same ghost from earlier. They spotted you and recoiled a bit. Given the way they acted nervous around you, they didn't seem like a threat. Even though you didn’t like approaching strangers, you felt compelled to reach out to the ghost.

You gave them a small smile as you approached them, trying to send off some sort of sign that you were trustworthy. “Hey there. Uh… I hope everything’s alright?”

You internally cringed at your words. You didn’t know how to approach this situation tactfully, and you weren’t even sure what you were hoping to gain from it.

They looked a bit taken aback. “oh, uh… i could be better, i guess… i was just heading on my way home…”

“O-oh, I’m sorry I interrupted you, then.”

“it’s okay, you don’t need to apologize…” they said. “in fact, i should be the one saying sorry… i probably looked like a creep standing there watching you… i wanted to see what all the noise was, and now i know it was just construction… i’m sorry if i weirded you out...”

“Hey, no, it’s okay,” you reassured them. “I’m sorry for making all that noise happen in the first place. The construction workers are building my house, but it’s a small place so they won’t be working on it for too long. They should be done in two months, more or less. Hopefully sooner than later.”

“it’s fine, they can take as long as they need… i have my headphones on most of the time, so the noise from construction won’t bother me…”

You smiled, glad that the issue was settled now. “There’s no problem music can’t solve, huh?”

They smiled back at you, and you felt relieved that this conversation was starting to take a better turn. “tell me about it… music is my life, aside from working on the snail farm.”

“Snail farm?” you asked with genuine interest. “That’s cool. What’s it like working there?”

“it’s pretty laid-back, the snails kinda just do their own thing unless i need to step in… the old king and queen of the underground are my best customers… they love to make snail pies.”

Out of politeness, you refrained from scrunching your nose at the thought of snail pies. “That’s pretty neat,” you fibbed. “So you’re the only one manning the farm, then?”

“yeah, blook acres is a family-owned business… me and my cousins used to run it together when we lived underground… but they all went off and started doing their own thing… i work as a sound mixer for one of my cousins, though… he’s, um, mettaton… i’m sure you know him…”

Jesus, Mettaton’s very existence seemed to follow you everywhere you went here. “Wait, Mettaton’s your cousin?”

“yeah… i know it’s shocking, we look entirely different…”

You chuckled. “Yeah, he’s a robot and you’re a ghost. Two entirely different species.”

A heavy silence filled the air. You wondered if you had said something wrong, even though you _knew_ what you said was objectively correct.

“hey, um…” they interjected. “i forgot to tell you my name. it’s napstablook… what’s yours...?”

You told them your name, and they repeated it under their breath as though they were making a note to not forget it.

“i’ll be sure to remember that…” they said. “anyway, um, this is probably a sudden question to ask, but… if you’re free, you should come over and see the farm. i know we just met, but you’ve been really nice to me… you don’t have to come if you don’t want to though… i understand if it’s an inconvenience...”

You decided to put your grocery plans on hold, it wasn’t an urgent task anyway. Befriending Napstablook was more important to you now. “Yeah, sure, I’d love to!”

They smiled at you. “okay, just follow me… my place is right down the road.”

After a short walk, you two made it to their place. Their house was ghost-shaped, standing in the middle of spacious land. There was a wooden ‘Blook Acres’ sign that hung crookedly above the gated entrance. Napstablook typed their code in with their little ghost nubs, and the two of you walked in.

They gave you a tour of the farm, showing you their favorite snails they kept as pets. Napstablook challenged you to a snail race, allowing you to play for free. They said they earned more than enough money making music with Mettaton anyway. You struggled to pick up on the strategy to win the race, and you were mercilessly defeated by the other snails.

“sorry you lost the race…” Napstablook said. “maybe you’ll do better next time.”

“anyway, i’m getting hungry…” they continued. “you can come inside the house with me if you want… or you can leave if you’re bored… i understand if you have to go…”

“I’ve still got lots of time to kill, to be honest,” you replied. “I’ll probably hang out with you for awhile, if you don’t mind.”

“i don’t mind at all… i… really like your company…”

You beamed at them. “I like yours too. My future house isn’t far from your place, so we can hang out whenever we’re free.”

They perked up and smiled. “that would be fun…”

The both of you entered their house. The interior looked run-down with cobwebs in every corner, but you figured that was just Napstablook’s aesthetic. Pieces of Mettaton merch were displayed around the house. You found their support for their cousin to be adorable. 

You followed Napstablook to the kitchen, and they opened the fridge. “i’d offer you a ghost sandwich, but the last time i gave one to a human, it went right through them…”

“It’s okay, I’ll have something to eat later.”

You watched Napstablook swallow the sandwich whole, and it disappeared where you presumed their stomach would be. It was amusing, to say the least, to see how differently ghosts digested their food from humans.

“after a great meal, i like to lie on the ground and feel like garbage…” they said. “do you want to… join me… even though you didn’t eat anything…”

“Sure, why not?” you said nonchalantly.

“okay, i also want to show you my music while we lie down… if you don’t mind…”

You smiled. “Of course, I’d be happy to listen!”

“it’ll be a mix of my personal stuff, along with music i’ve made with mettaton and our friend shyren.”

You had only heard Mettaton’s music in the background while shopping, or when skimming through the radio stations in your car. You thought it would be great to become better acquainted with his songs—especially now that you had a friend who was behind Mettaton’s music too.

You and Napstablook laid down on the hardwood ground across from each other. You weren’t feeling like garbage just yet; in fact, you were enjoying the first song that came on. You assumed it was Napstablook’s solo work because it was too dark to sound like something Mettaton would make. The song sounded like an instrumental from an 80’s goth band with an 8-bit twist. It was perfectly Napstablook, and you loved it.

More and more songs played, and you could tell which ones were Napstablook’s solo stuff and which ones were collabs with Mettaton. The songs with Mettaton featured his mechanical vocals along with upbeat dance instrumentals. You didn’t know he had such a diverse vocal range, but it was to be expected as a robot who could easily manipulate his voice.

During one of Napstablook’s songs, you heard the front door open. It startled both you and Napstablook, and you opened your eyes to see who was there.

It was none other than Mettaton.

He was in his box form, wheeling closer to you and Napstablook.

“Good morning, Blooky, my dear!” he called out, then paused. “ _Oh,_ and who do we have here?” Mettaton asked with intrigue. Even without eyes in his current form, you could tell he was looking right at you.

“hi mettaton…” Napstablook said before telling him your name. “she’s... my friend… i think…” they looked over at you and asked, “we’re friends, right…”

“Y-yeah, we’re friends…” you stammered, keeping your eyes on Napstablook and away from Mettaton.

God, you were red in the face. Mettaton’s presence caught you so off-guard. All you could think about was the fact that there were millions of people in the world who would do anything to meet him, and you were somehow lucky enough to be at his cousin’s house when he suddenly wheeled right in.

“Oh, Blooky, you’ve never told me about her! How long have you two been friends?”

“Less than two hours,” you deadpanned, trying to use humor to conceal how intimidated you were, even though it was probably obvious how anxious you felt. 

“Well, no wonder I’ve never heard anything about your friendship,” Mettaton chuckled. “How did you two meet so suddenly?”

“Uh… my house is under construction at the end of Merlot Avenue,” you began. “Napstablook heard the construction going on and went to check out where all the noise was coming from. I went up to them and said sorry for how loud it was, and we just started talking from there.”

“I see, so it was a chance meeting! So you’re about to move in town, darling?” Mettaton asked you.

“I-I guess I’ve technically moved in already,” you replied. “I’m staying at an Airbnb a few blocks away until my house is done, it should only be two months. I wanted to move here before its completion because my old place was too far from Ebott Grove; I’m supposed to go to the construction site every week to make sure the builders are doing the job correctly.

You paused, then added for good measure, “I-I designed the house myself, actually. I’m an architect.” 

Admittedly, you felt like a show-off for informing Mettaton of your capabilities. Were you _trying_ to impress him with your respectable profession? Why should you care what he thought of you? You were probably never going to see him again after this anyway.

“You’re an architect? That’s _perfect!_ ” Mettaton exclaimed, clapping his hands together. “I’ve been thinking about starting my own nightclub, because the ones in the city have been turning just oh-so grim. Mahogany has a poor drink selection, Club Inferno is on the dangerous side of town, and The Agenda has ceilings that look like they’re about to collapse. And the worst crime that all three nightclubs have committed? None of them meet my minimum requirements for glitz and glamour!”

Well, so much for never seeing him again. He sounded like he was… _interested_ in your business?

“… If you’re trying to say you may want to hire me, you can look at my portfolio online,” you told him, trying to hide the hesitance in your voice. “I specialize in residential and commercial buildings, so I can come up with designs for a nightclub. I can show you examples of my work right now, if you’d like.”

“Of course I’d love to see your work! Blooky, dear, would you mind if we used your computer?”

“not at all… i want to see her portfolio too…”

The three of you went over to Napstablook’s desktop computer. They typed in their password, then moved aside so you could open a browser and type in your web address. Your website loaded, and you clicked on the ‘Portfolio’ tab. You started scrolling through the page, explaining your past projects in layman’s terms.

“I was part of the architecture firm that designed Starcade over in Sky City,” you said as you went down the webpage, showing off the floor plan, sketches, 3D renderings, and final product of the arcade. “Starcade is basically similar to Dave & Buster’s; it’s got arcade games, food, and alcoholic beverages.” 

You looked over at Mettaton. “If you think about it, Starcade is kind of like a nightclub for both kids and adults. Even though I’ve never designed an _actual_ nightclub before, I could certainly handle the specs of your project.”

The words left a sour taste in your mouth, even though you were just trying to build rapport with a potential client. Truthfully, persuading clients to hire you was your least favorite part of the job. Although you had gotten used to it over the years, you still couldn’t help but feel like a bit of a brown-noser. Even worse, you were dealing with Mettaton right now; he had so many people trying to kiss his shiny metal ass, he could probably tell when someone was fake. 

On top of that, you knew he could easily reject your business and look for architects who had experience with designing nightclubs, so you needed to put extra effort into selling yourself. Still, you didn’t want to be a kiss-ass, you wanted to be honest and genuine with him. You prayed that he would have faith in you and your competence.

“I absolutely think you can, darling,” Mettaton responded with a lilt to his tone. “I like the way the floor plan here is set up. The bar is all the way to the right, far away from the gaming area. But the bar isn’t tucked away and hidden in a tight corner either, it’s nestled in between the top and bottom right corners. Maybe we could follow a similar layout in my nightclub; it’d give people plenty of room to dance without the bar being too obstructive, yet it’d still be noticeable enough from the dancefloor to beckon people to buy drinks.”

So far, so good. He sounded like he was starting to trust you and your work. The fact that he already had some ideas going was a good sign as well.

You kept going through your old projects and explaining them, until you reached the plans for your house at the end of the page.

“So this is what I had in mind for my house. I came up with the designs myself, since it’s my place and I’ve recently stopped working at firms,” you looked over at Mettaton, trying to ignore the heat growing in your cheeks. “I work for myself now because I’m capable of taking on multiple responsibilities. So I’d be the only one you’d meet up with during the design process. Just until we get into the development phase and start meeting with contractors, engineers, and developers, of course.”

Mettaton was staring at the sketches and 3D models of your cottage-style house. “Oh, how quaint! You chose just the right design, it fits with the rest of the houses in your neighborhood. I must say, though, it’s too humble and modest for my taste. But I know you’re capable of designing buildings that are larger and more extravagant, like Starcade and the art deco skyscraper downtown. I think if you combine those two together, you’d get everything I’m looking for in my nightclub’s design: fancy like the skyscraper, and flashy like Starcade.”

You started to picture what Mettaton’s nightclub would look like based off of those descriptors. “Fancy and flashy. Sounds just like you.”

“You know, your house is just like you too, darling,” Mettaton said with a cheeky tone to his voice. “So very adorable.”

You widened your eyes, the color starting to drain from your face. You felt like you were going to pass out. You weren’t even a fan of his why were you acting like one of them there were so many other cute people out there you weren’t even that special—

“I—uh—th-thank you,” you stammered, trying to appease the awkward silence that ensued from his unexpected compliment.

Mettaton chuckled. Yep, it was obvious how flustered you were. Goddammit. “So do you have an office, beautiful?” he asked. “Or do you need space rented out for our first meeting? If so, I have a couple of meeting rooms over at my resort. We can schedule a date to meet up and discuss ideas there.”

Holy fuck, he wanted to take this further. But you weren’t officially hired yet; you had barely scratched the surface with ideas for his nightclub, and you didn’t know how well you two would work together. However, the fact that you had gotten to this point with Mettaton astounded you.

“I only have a home office, so yes, I need to rent out some space. Thanks for offering a room,” you said, pretending you weren’t screaming internally at the prospect of working with him. “When should we meet?”

“Let me take a look at my planner. It’s stored in my hard drive, so give me a moment.”

You assumed it was something only he could see, since he just stood there and raised a gloved hand where his chin should be. You waited as he tried to find gaps within his schedule.

“Okay. My recording of ‘Cooking With a Killer Robot’ will be done by 4PM on Friday, and I’ll be free after that. How would you like to meet up that day at 4:30?”

You smiled and nodded. “Works for me.”

“Wonderful, I’ll jot that down! I look forward to meeting with you, gorgeous.”

Mettaton then came closer to Napstablook. He pulled something out of a small compartment on the side of his body, then closed the lid before handing the object to his cousin. “Here, Blooky. The non-corrupted files of the new songs I’ve been playing around with are in this thumb drive. I don’t know how they got messed up, but I’m glad I backed them up before things went downhill.”

Mettaton was already making new songs, even though you had just seen the commercial for his latest album yesterday? Interesting. It seemed like whenever he was finished with a project, he quickly hopped on to the next. He was a go-getter who was confident in all his pursuits, so perhaps he’d work well with you as your client.

“cool… thank you so much, mettaton…” Napstablook replied. “i’ll get to work on mixing one of the songs tonight…”

Mettaton smiled at them. “Take as much time as you need, dear. I’ll be occupied with rehearsals for ‘Falling In Love With a Killer Robot’ anyway. It’s been rightfully renewed for its third season, because who doesn’t want to see more drama, romance, and bloodshed?”

He started wheeling towards the door. “I best be on my way now. Take care, you two, and have fun going back to what I rudely interrupted.” Mettaton then pointed a gloved finger at you. “I’ll see you on Friday at 4:30, darling!”

You smiled shyly and waved at him. “Bye, Mettaton.”

“bye…”

Mettaton left, and a weight was lifted off your shoulders. God, you hadn’t even realized how tense you were around him.

“are you okay?” Napstablook asked.

“Y-yeah,” you half-lied, scratching the back of your neck. “I just wasn’t expecting him to come over—let alone become my first potential client…” _and call me adorable too_ , you wanted to add, but you didn’t want to let Napstablook know you were flustered by such an empty compliment.

“i know mettaton can be too much to handle sometimes… but he’s a normal person just like you and me… uh… not that i’m calling you ordinary or boring or anything… i think you’re really cool…”

You smiled. At least that compliment didn’t make your head spin irrationally. “Thank you, Napstablook.”

You felt your phone buzz in your pocket. Curious to see what was new, you took out your phone and saw a text. It was from an unknown number, but by reading the contents of the message, you could tell who it was.

  
  


**(xxx)-xxx-xxxx** : hey, kiddo.

**You** : Sans? How did you get my number?

**(xxx)-xxx-xxxx** : don’t worry about it.

**(xxx)-xxx-xxxx** : my bro is home and he’s dying to meet you. come by our place whenever you’re ready.

  
  


Sans worked in very mysterious ways. You decided to not bother thinking about how he got a hold of your number.

  
  


**You** : Alright, tell Papyrus I’m on my way. Not sure how far my current location is from your guys’ house, but it shouldn’t be too long. See you soon.

**(xxx)-xxx-xxxx** : see ya.

  
  


You put your phone away and looked at Napstablook. “Hey, I’m sorry but I have to go now. I had a lot of fun with you, though. Can I have your number so I can ask when you wanna hang out next time?”

Napstablook smiled at you. “of course…”

You two exchanged numbers before you bid them a goodbye. You typed in Queenie’s address on your phone, and started your 20-minute venture on foot.

During your walk, you started picturing what Mettaton’s nightclub would look like. You pieced together some vague ideas, but you’d have to look through Pinterest for inspiration. 

Your mind then wandered to what you’d do with the boatload of money you’d make if Mettaton hired you. Maybe you’d buy out the world’s entire ketchup supply and keep it all away from Sans.


	2. Fancy and Flashy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Papyrus gives you a tour of Ebott Grove, you and Mettaton have two meetings, and he pops the big question.

As you walked, you thought about how meeting another new person today would be taxing. You hadn’t expected to hang out with Napstablook, let alone meet their cousin who just so happened to be the world’s number-one robot celebrity. But Papyrus sounded like an intriguing character and you hated cancelling plans last minute, so you refused to change your mind about going on the tour. You’d have the evening to recharge by yourself anyway.

You made it to Sans and Papyrus’ house and rang the doorbell. A tall skeleton man answered, dressed in a beige tour guide uniform, a wide brim hat, and brown hiking boots.

He beamed, and his booming voice rang through your ears as he spoke. “AH, HELLO! SO YOU ARE THE FABLED HUMAN I HAVE BEEN HEARING ALL ABOUT.”

You smirked, already amused by the man before you. “Oh, am I the talk of the town now?”

“YES, BUT DO NOT FRET, HUMAN. WE ARE NOT SAYING BAD THINGS ABOUT YOU,” Papyrus reassured. “IN FACT, WE ARE ELATED TO HAVE YOU HERE. THERE ARE NOT MANY HUMANS WHO DECIDE TO MOVE HERE, AND THOSE WHO DO BECOME A GREAT ADDITION TO OUR COMMUNITY.”

“I’d love to get involved,” you said with a smile. “Monsters seem like they have each other’s backs. That’s partially why I decided to move here, the feeling of having a close-knit community is nice.”

“YES! WE ARE ALWAYS THERE FOR EACH OTHER, AND I AM CERTAIN YOU WILL BE HERE FOR US TOO.”

“ANYWAY, IT IS SO NICE TO MEET YOU, TEMPORARY NEXT-DOOR NEIGHBOR,” he said, extending his hand towards you for a handshake. Your handshakes were always firm, but you loosened your grip this time because you were afraid to crush his bones.

“ALLOW ME TO INTRODUCE MYSELF,” he continued. “I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS: PUZZLE-SOLVER EXTRAORDINAIRE, CULINARY SCHOOL GRADUATE, AND HEAD CHEF AT THAT’S AMORE PASTA. OR AS I LIKE TO CALL IT, THE BEST ITALIAN RESTAURANT ON THE SURFACE, BECAUSE I AM IN CHARGE OF THE RECIPES.”

“I AM ALSO A FORMER HUMAN-HUNTING FANATIC, BUT NOW I AM JUST A HUMAN FANATIC. TO BE HONEST, I HAVE NEVER CAPTURED A SINGLE HUMAN UNDERGROUND. INSTEAD, I HAVE BEFRIENDED FRISK, THE HUMAN CHILD WHO BROKE DOWN THE BARRIER, ALONG WITH SEVERAL OTHER HUMANS I MET ON THE SURFACE. YOU, MY FRIEND, ARE THE NEXT TO ADD TO MY LIST.”

Right off the bat, Papyrus wasn’t like anyone you had ever met before. He was sociable and self-assured, the yang to his brother’s yin. You couldn’t wait to see how the rest of your time with him would play out.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Papyrus,” you said. “Thank you for offering me a tour. I’ve been to town before moving in, but I didn’t get to see every part.” You then gestured to his outfit. “I see that you’ve dressed up for the occasion. You look like a real tour guide.”

Papyrus grinned and proudly placed his hands on his hips. “AH, ADMIRING MY HANDIWORK, I SEE! ASIDE FROM COOKING AND SOLVING PUZZLES, I AM ALSO A MASTER OF NEEDLE AND THREAD. IN FACT, I HAVE GOTTEN ‘SEW’ GOOD THAT PEOPLE AROUND TOWN PAY ME TO MEND THEIR CLOTHING. SO NEXT TIME YOU SEE A HOLE IN YOUR SHIRT OR A RIP IN YOUR PANTS, DON’T DESPAIR, PAPYRUS IS THERE! BRING YOUR CLOTHING TO ME AND I’LL RETURN THEM IN TOP CONDITION, SATISFACTION GUARANTEED.”

You smiled at him. “Thank you for the offer, I’ll take it up if need be. You sound really talented.”

“I AM A SKELETON OF MANY TALENTS, UNLIKE MY LAZYBONES OF A BROTHER,” he sneered, but love stopped him from having much bite to his words. “SPEAKING OF, SANS HAS FALLEN ASLEEP ON THE COUCH. I AM MAKING HIM COME ALONG ON THIS TOUR BECAUSE HE NEEDS EXERCISE AND FRESH AIR. IT IS NOT HEALTHY FOR HIM TO LAZE AROUND ALL DAY LIKE A HOUSECAT.”

Papyrus turned his heel and marched to the living room, and you followed reluctantly. Sans was asleep on the couch, his elbow propped against the arm rest as his head laid on his hand. He snored as drool poured down by the side of his mouth. You didn’t know whether to find that funny or off-putting.

“SANS!” Papyrus grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him. “SANS, GET UP! OUR NEW NEIGHBOR IS HERE AND SHE’S READY FOR THE TOUR!”

Sans kept his eyes shut. Unless he was a heavy sleeper, there was no way he _wasn’t_ pretending to be asleep. Papyrus had raised his already deafening voice, and he had shaken Sans rapidly like a maraca.

Papyrus groaned and shook Sans even harder when there was no response. “UGH, I KNOW YOU’RE PRETENDING TO BE ASLEEP NOW! YOU ALWAYS PULL THIS STUPID LITTLE TRICK AND IT’S NOT FUNNY!”

“z z z… i’m asleep. z z z…” Sans said playfully, his eyes still closed.

You laughed. Papyrus was not amused. “GET UP, YOU LAZYBONES! YOU’RE COMING WITH US ON THE TOUR! YOU NEED TO GO OUT AND GET SOME FRESH AIR!”

Sans opened one eye and looked up at Papyrus, his grin impish as ever. “well, why didn’t you tell me i would be coming, bro? maybe if i had known earlier, i wouldn’t have fallen asleep.”

Papyrus stamped his feet on the ground. “YOU WOULD HAVE FALLEN ASLEEP WHETHER I TOLD YOU OR NOT! NOW GET UP SO WE CAN LEAVE ALREADY!”

You shared a smirk with Sans as he opened his other eye and got off the couch. “well, both of my eyes are open,” he said. “i’m awake now.”

“UGH, FINALLY! NOW PLEASE KEEP THEM OPEN DURING THE TOUR,” Papyrus demanded, leading you and Sans out the door.

“can’t make a promise i won’t keep,” Sans joked.

The tour had gotten off to a great start. There were two gardens on the outskirts of town that you had surprisingly missed during your visits. One was filled with golden flowers, and the other echo flowers. The golden flower field had statues of the old king and queen of the Underground. You listened with open ears as Papyrus recounted stories about Asgore and Toriel’s leadership.

The echo flowers were like a museum of the Underground. Monsters would whisper their wishes into an echo flower, and anyone who passed by it would have the wish repeated back to them. Because Papyrus was eager to get a move on, you didn’t spend much time at the echo flower garden. You made a mental note to come back there on your own time, so you could learn more about the rich history of monsterkind.

Papyrus took you and Sans down a row of shops. Among them, a bakery led by spiders stuck out to you the most. Papyrus noticed your interest and told you the pastries were delicious, but to only go there on payday because Muffet had a habit of overcharging customers.

The three of you approached the last shop on the street. It was a brown brick building with a balcony covered in flowers and a vintage-style sign that read ‘That’s Amore Pasta’.

“AND NOW, THE BEST PLACE IN EBOTT GROVE: THAT’S AMORE PASTA!” Papyrus exclaimed, grinning as he gestured to the restaurant. He then led you inside and treated you to a free meal, and you knew it was out of politeness as much as it was an opportunity to show off his cooking skills. You praised him, because the food was good and Papyrus had a strong need for approval.

After the meal, the tour continued. You were reacquainted with familiar sights, like the river with free boat rides and the telescope that had left you with a red circle around your eye. Somewhere along the way, Papyrus had taken you and Sans to Merlot Avenue.

“i heard an architect is having their house built at the end of this street,” Sans said jokingly. “wonder when we’ll get to meet ‘em.”

You chuckled. “They should be moving in soon. They’ll want to feel welcome here, so make sure to have Papyrus give them a tour.”

“OH, GLADLY!” Papyrus laughed. “I WANT TO SEE HOW FAR ALONG YOUR HOUSE HAS COME, HUMAN. LET US PROCEED FORTH.”

The three of you reached the end of the street. The developers were still building away, and you waved at the few of them who noticed you. 

“OH. IT’S ONLY IN THE BEGINNING PHASE, BUT IT’S OFF TO A GREAT START,” Papyrus remarked.

He then cupped his hands around his mouth to amplify his voice, turning to the builders. “YOU’RE ALL DOING GREAT! KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK!”

You smirked when one of them shot a thumbs-up at Papyrus, and a couple of them shouted a thank you.

“My house should be finished in two months,” you said as Papyrus turned his attention back to you. “If you want to see what it’ll look like when it’s done, I have 3D renderings on my phone.”

“YES, PLEASE SHOW ME WHAT YOUR HUMBLE ABODE LOOKS LIKE!” he exclaimed.

You took out your phone and showed off the 3D models. “It’s pretty small, but I prefer it that way. I live alone, and having less space means less stuff, and therefore less stress.”

“OH, IT IS VERY CUTE,” Papyrus said. “IT LOOKS LIKE SOMETHING FROM A FAIRYTALE. I FEEL LIKE IF I WENT INSIDE, I’D FIND GOLDILOCKS EATING THREE BOWLS OF PORRIDGE.”

You chuckled, and then your phone buzzed in your hand. You looked at the notification and saw a text from Napstablook.

  
  


**Napstablook** : hey… mettaton just asked me if i could give him your phone number… i don’t wanna do that without your permission first, so... is it cool if i tell him?

  
  


It made sense why Mettaton would ask for your number. You would be meeting up, and possibly working with him. Working together would require regular contact even outside of office hours. That was all it was, and that was all it would be. Nothing more.

Papyrus watched as you texted back to give Napstablook the okay. “WHAT’S GOING ON, HUMAN? IS IT SOMETHING URGENT?”

You blinked and looked up at him. “Huh? O-oh, it’s nothing urgent, it’s just—”

Before you knew it, Papyrus had read Napstablook’s message. His jaw dropped, and he gasped dramatically.

“METTATON… WANTS… YOUR PHONE NUMBER?!” Papyrus grabbed your shoulders and stared into your eyes. “WHAT FOR?! HOW DOES HE KNOW YOU?!”

You stared at him in shock as your phone vibrated again. It was either Napstablook or Mettaton, but they could wait for a response later. 

“U-uh… he and I might be working together,” you said. “He wants to start his own nightclub. We’re having our first meeting in a few days…”

“AN MTT NIGHTCLUB?” Papyrus let go of your shoulders and brought his hands to his cheeks, grinning. “WOWIE! I CANNOT WAIT TO GO THERE AND DANCE MY PANTS OFF TO HIS MUSIC! MAYBE IF I’M LUCKY, HE WILL BE THERE AND MY SMOOTH MOVES WILL CATCH HIS EYE. I’VE ALREADY GOTTEN HIS ATTENTION BEFORE, WHEN HE HIRED ME TO MOVE HIS BELONGINGS. HE SAID I WAS THE STRONGEST MONSTER THERE, WHICH I ALREADY KNEW, OF COURSE. BUT IT’S NICE TO HEAR FROM SOMEONE ELSE THAT I’M MADE OF MUSCLE AS MUCH AS BONE.”

“you’re gonna get filthy stinkin’ rich, kiddo,” Sans piped in. “maybe you should get a pool in your backyard so you can swim in all the money you make.”

“W-well, Mettaton technically hasn’t hired me,” you countered. “He only expressed _interest_ in working with me. The way it works, architects and clients use the first meeting to see if they can work together. They have to have good communication and come to an agreement on ideas. If they can’t make it work, then the client will just have to find another architect they can get along with.”

“mettaton hasn’t hired you _yet_ , you mean,” Sans said with a wink. “he likes people with a can-do attitude who are easy to get along with. you’re right up his alley, so don’t sweat it.”

“Thank you,” you said with a small smile. “I’ll admit, this whole situation kind of baffles me. I’m astounded that he even considered doing business with me. Not that I’m incapable of handling the project, I just never expected to have someone like him as a possible client. But I’m going to look past his celebrity status and treat him as I would any other client.”

“YOU ARE VERY LUCKY TO HAVE THE OPPORTUNITY TO WORK WITH METTATON, HUMAN,” Papyrus said. “HE’S REALLY NICE TO HIS EMPLOYEES, AND I WOULD KNOW BECAUSE I EXPERIENCED IT FIRSTHAND. I THINK YOU ARE A GOOD FIT FOR THE JOB, AND SANS BROUGHT UP SOME GOOD POINTS EARLIER. AFTER I DANCE THE NIGHT AWAY AT METTATON’S NIGHTCLUB, I WOULD ALSO LIKE TO COME OVER AND SWIM IN YOUR POOL OF MONEY.”

You chuckled. “Thanks for the encouragement, you guys. I’ll just have to see how this goes.”

The three of you walked back home, and the tour came to an end. You thanked Papyrus again for taking time out of his day to get you more familiar with the neighborhood.

You went to your room and flopped on the bed. After such a long day, the pillow felt like a cloud underneath your head. You took out your phone and saw texts from half an hour ago.

  
  


**Napstablook** : okay… i’ll tell him now…

**(xxx)-xxx-xxxx** : Don’t forget, beautiful, 4:30PM on Friday at my hotel! I look forward to meeting with you. I see great potential within you.

  
  


It was relieving to know that Mettaton was encouraging like Sans and Papyrus were. His fame and grandeur intimidated you, but as Napstablook had said, Mettaton was a normal person too. Before you fell asleep, you responded back.

  
  


**You** : Thank you, I look forward to meeting with you too.

***

Friday afternoon arrived. Mettaton texted you to wait for him in the lobby, and you came fifteen minutes early because you hated being late. As you waited, Papyrus sent you a barrage of texts saying you got this and Mettaton will hire you. You had the feeling that Papyrus would be the death of you one of these days, he was the most uplifting person you’ve ever met.

Mettaton arrived right on time. The lights on his body formed a smiley face as he wheeled toward you, which you found endearing.

“Good afternoon, darling. How are you doing today?”

“I’m doing well, thank you. How about you?”

“I’m a little tired from recording, truthfully, but talking about ideas for the nightclub will give me energy. I’ve been hyped about it for a long time,” he gestured to the entrance of the meeting room. “Shall we begin our meeting now?”

You smiled and nodded before Mettaton led you inside the room. Despite his extravagant taste, the room looked professional with black leather chairs, and a big white table that had an icon of his box form in the middle. You two sat next to each other, and you unpacked your bag to get your pen and notebook.

“By the way, I do not charge for first meetings with a client,” you informed him. “I use this time to brainstorm ideas with the client, seeing if we can agree on a similar vision and whether we get along or not. We’re not committed to anything unless you decide to hire me. If you do, I will be charging a fee of $125 per hour from our second meeting and so forth.”

“Got it. Perhaps by the end of the meeting, we can figure out the estimated cost of the project too.”

“Yes, once we have more details, I can calculate a cost,” you nodded as you picked up your pen. “So where were you looking to build this nightclub? Have you found an empty lot?”

“Yes, there’s one right by Highland Mall,” Mettaton said. “It’s quite spacious, I’d say it’s even big enough to have a parking lot built by the nightclub too.”

You jotted down what he said shorthand. “Very good. If we decide to have a second meeting, we will need to visit the site location so I can take measurements and plan the rooms accordingly,” you set your pen down and gave him your full attention. “Now tell me more about what you’re looking for design-wise. I know last time you said you wanted everything to be fancy and flashy.”

“Yes, something that’s more upscale than usual for a nightclub,” Mettaton said. “I want it to be laid out like a venue for a concert, with a raised stage right in front of the dance floor.”

He clasped his hands together, looking up at the ceiling in thought. “I can picture it now: Blooky taking over the DJ booth, people getting into the groove of their music, everybody having a good time. Blooky prefers to stay in the background because they’re shy, and I get most of the attention anyway. But having them DJ at my nightclub would give them a chance to be in the limelight as they deserve.”

You smiled, because it was clear that Mettaton cared for his cousin, and he sounded positive about what he wanted. You had dealt with clients who were unsure of what exactly they were looking for, and it would sometimes feel like pulling teeth when you tried to come up with ideas for them. It was nice to work with someone who could easily picture their designs; it shows they’ve put thought into it and are capable of having a rich discussion.

“That’s very thoughtful of you,” you said as you took more notes down. “There’s also the bar and lounge area to take account of. Let’s discuss where they should be located.”

The two of you kept bouncing ideas off of each other, occasionally looking through Pinterest for inspiration. You made a quick aerial-perspective sketch of the potential design, adding onto it whenever one of you brought up an idea you both liked. There would be a balcony made specifically for the lounge area, overlooking the dance floor. A mini-bar would welcome patrons as they went upstairs to the lounge, while the main bar would be on the first floor, adjacent to the stage.

The exterior of the nightclub would be extravagant, like a peacock displaying its every feather. An Art Deco design would give the nightclub personality with its ornamental geometric shapes, matching with an emblem of Mettaton’s angular box body.

While you were more focused on the layout and technicalities as the architect, Mettaton couldn’t help going into an excited spiel about the interior design.

“I want pink curtains all over the lounge, and black leather loveseats with pillows of my face. Oh, and I want the walls behind the bar to light up in different colors, just like the dance floor. And of course, let’s not forget to place a disco ball and Mettaton-shaped lights on the ceiling!”

You chuckled at his enthusiasm. “I do love all those ideas because they’re perfectly you. You will have to consult an interior designer about getting all of the decor though; all I do is design structure for you to put those beautiful things in. But once you do decide on all the decor you want, I’ll insert them into my sketches and 3D models because they’re an important part of the layout.”

The next couple of hours flew by. Even more ideas were thrown around because you were still in the brainstorming phase; nothing would be set in stone until the next couple of meetings. Eventually, your guys’ train of thought took its last stop, and your discussion started to come to a close.

“Well, now that we’ve got some solid ideas down, I can start estimating the cost for the entire scope of this project,” you said.

You broke down the expenses, writing them down on paper for Mettaton to keep. Everything from the cost per square foot; construction materials; hiring contractors, builders, and engineers; and the time you’d spend creating sketches and 3D renderings. You weaved in all the factors and added them up to calculate a fixed-price fee to include in the contract. As an eight-figure celebrity, Mettaton didn’t flinch upon seeing all the digits in the number.

You had touched upon everything that should be discussed in your very first meeting. Now seemed like the right time to pop the big question. Even though everything had gone well and you were respectful of each other’s ideas, you still felt a bit nervous to ask him. But there was no backing down now.

“So... what do you think, Mettaton?” you began. “Do you like where this is going? Do you want to work with me on your nightclub?”

Mettaton laid his gloved hand on top of yours. You nearly jumped right out of your skin, but you tried your best to maintain your composure. “Darling?” he said gently, your heart hammering in your chest.

“Y-yes?” you managed to utter out.

He was quiet for a long while. If he were in his humanoid form, he would give you a tense stare to accompany the silence.

“You’re hired!” he exclaimed, the shape of a happy face forming on his lights as he raised his hands up in the air.

You perked up in your seat. “R-really?” you beamed. “Awesome! I’m so glad, because this is going to be such a fun project to work on. I think I’m especially going to enjoy the 3D renderings; they’re going to be so pretty to look at because you’ve got such a glamorous style.”

“Of course it’s going to look pretty, it’s _my_ nightclub,” Mettaton gloated. “Although I can’t give myself all the credit, you’re the one piecing everything together. I have total faith in your vision.”

Your smile widened. All of the trust he was putting in you would be a huge responsibility, but it was flattering and you knew you could do it. 

“Thank you, Mettaton. I’m so glad this discussion went well,” you said. “By the way, if you’re curious about how long this will take, I’d give it 18 to 21 months based on similar projects I’ve done in the past. That includes both the design and construction process. It may sound like a long time, but I promise the upcoming months will fly by. There have been so many times my old coworkers and I would finish a project, only to feel like we had just started yesterday.”

“Oh, I know that feeling. It usually happens at the end of my tours,” Mettaton replied. “I’ll be hopping from country to country for six months, and in the blink of an eye I’m on the flight back home. But sometimes, I’ll extend my stay for a few days—not too long, because I have many responsibilities to attend to. There’s just so many places to see on the surface, it’s shockingly vast compared to the Underground.”

“That’s true,” you said. “If I recall correctly, all you had were the Ruins, Snowdin, Waterfall, Hotlands, and the CORE. I don’t know how big they are and how they fared in terms of diversity, but it doesn’t sound like a whole lot compared to the surface. Up here, we’ve got so many different countries and cultures to marvel.”

“Oh yes, there’s a whole lot to see!” Mettaton replied. “But the only times I really get to travel are when I tour. I have so many TV shows, music, and product lines to put out that it can be a challenge to find time for a personal vacation.”

“Let’s say you were free of all your responsibilities for the upcoming week. Where would you use this time to travel?” you asked.

“Believe it or not, I’d want to go somewhere quiet,” Mettaton chuckled. “Maybe an island like Fiji, somewhere tropical where I can relax, soak up the sun, and sip on mojitos. I love my life and I wouldn’t trade it for the world, but it’d be nice to have a break every once in a while.”

There was a pause before he spoke again, as if he had just had an epiphany. “And yet, I feel more compelled to stay here and get work done, all so I can entertain others.”

You were surprised by how earnest he sounded. You got the feeling that he hadn’t admitted this to anyone else, given how much weight his last statement carried. A part of you felt tempted to say you’d want to go with him on vacation as an incentive for him to relax, but you hardly knew him and you had duties to fulfill too. 

“An island vacation does sound nice,” you replied. “I hope you get the tropical break you deserve. To be honest, I don’t really keep up with your shows or your music, but I admire your work ethic and the energy you have for your many pursuits. Just remember that even you have limits and give yourself time to unwind.”

“Oh, you’re not a fan?” he asked. “That’s a shame. You’re missing out on a lot, darling.”

“I mean, I’m not _not_ a fan,” you smirked. “I watched part of ‘Falling In Love With a Killer Robot’ the other day at Grillby’s, and was impressed with your performance. You’re a great actor, and I like how you gave Romeo and Juliet a modern twist by inserting commentary on how the world views monster and human relationships. We’ve been progressing on that, but there’s certainly still some work to be done.”

“Oh, so you’re not _not_ a fan?” his tone was sly. “Double negatives make a positive, gorgeous, so that means you _are_ a fan. Not to mention that you just gave me a glowing review of my show,” Mettaton’s lights turned into a smiley face again.

You laughed. “Okay, you got me there. When I go home, I’ll buy every single piece of MTT merch online, and fill up every inch of my house with them once they arrive.”

He chuckled. “I know you won’t do that, but it’s the thought that counts.”

You grinned, until you remembered something. “Oh, by the way, how much do you charge for meeting room rentals? I brought a couple hundred in cash with me so I could pay you up front, since we didn’t discuss the cost last time.”

Mettaton looked around the room at all the empty chairs and unused table space, then back at you. “Considering it’s just you and I here, and we barely take up space, I feel that it’s futile to charge you at all. Besides, the meetings here will only go on until we finish the design stage, correct?”

You raised your brows. “Well, yeah, but are you sure about this? I mean, I’m taking up space in your property, so it’s only fair that—”

Mettaton raised a finger to your lips. “Shh! I’ve already insisted, and no amount of persuasion is going to make me take back my generosity.”

“Al-alright,” you said, and Mettaton lowered his finger from your lips. 

“So, uh…” you straightened up in your seat. “As I said earlier, I’d like to visit the site location for our next meeting so I can better visualize what the nightclub will look like,” you said. “Then we can come back here, discuss any more ideas we may have, and add on to my sketches. While we did come up with a great foundation today, our ideas definitely aren’t fleshed-out yet.”

“Sounds like a plan, dear. Let me look at my schedule to find out when I’m free.”

Mettaton took a moment to look through his planner. “Would next Wednesday at 3:30PM work for you? I’ll be free until 6:30.”

You nodded. “Yes, I’m free then. Let’s make it a 2-hour block so that we can keep track of your expenses for meetings. Would you like to meet up at the lot first, and then come back here? I won’t let transportation time count into our block. The commute plus our session should still give you enough time to make it to your plans for 6:30.”

“Sounds perfect,” he affirmed.

Mettaton then laid his hand on top of yours again, the atmosphere in the room turning serious. “I just wanted to thank you for helping me make my vision come to life, darling. We had a great discussion today, and I know with you as the mastermind, I’ll be running the nightclub of my dreams before I know it.”

You tried to detect any hint of insincerity in his voice, but couldn’t find any. You looked down at his large gloved hand on top of yours, avoiding his eye. “No, thank _you_ for hiring me,” you said. “I’m happy to work with someone like you. I can tell you’re very enthusiastic about this project.”

The smiley face showed up on his lights again. “I am enthusiastic, very much so.”

He retracted his hand from yours, and you refused to admit that you could still feel his touch lingering on your skin. “Now that our session has ended, shall I walk you to your car?” he offered.

“Y-yeah, sure,” you said, a bit taken aback by the thoughtful gesture.

Once you were all packed up, the two of you headed out the meeting room and ventured into the parking lot. You pointed out your car to Mettaton, unlocked it, and put your bag in the backseat.

“Well, I’ll see you on Wednesday by the empty lot at 3:30, darling,” he said. “Until then, stay beautiful and take care!”

You smiled at him. “See you then, Mettaton.”

With one last lit-up happy face, he began wheeling back inside the hotel. You got into your car, pulled out of the parking space, and drove off. 

As you pulled into the highway back to Ebott Grove, you thought about what it’d be like to work with Mettaton for the next year and a half—maybe even longer. Something told you it would be the most rewarding project you’d ever take on.

***

When you told the skeleton brothers that you had gotten the job, you weren’t able to hear the end of it from Papyrus. He said he would start working on his dance moves so he could wow everyone at the grand opening. You told him he’d be dancing a lot, because it would take at least a year and a half for the nightclub to open.

“GOOD,” he had said. “THAT GIVES ME MORE THAN ENOUGH TIME TO BECOME AN EXPERT DANCER.”

You had also told Napstablook that Mettaton wanted them to DJ for the nightclub. They looked bashful, so you gave them encouragement and said people would love dancing to their music. Going out at night and being surrounded by tons of people could help break them out of their shell too.

Wednesday arrived, and the traffic to Highland Mall was congested. But you had anticipated it, so you left the house earlier than usual to make it on time. You eventually made it to the empty lot, and it definitely looked large enough to construct both a nightclub and a parking lot. But for now, it was just a field of dirt with small pathetic patches of grass scattered around.

You got out of the car with your bag and locked it. You stayed beside it as you took out your phone and texted Mettaton that you were here. He arrived within a few minutes, still in his box form and dressed in a red suit and yellow tie. You couldn’t help but smile at how dapper he looked.

“Good afternoon, darling,” he greeted you. “I’d ask how you’re doing today, but from the looks of that smile on your face, you seem very happy.”

“Oh, I just like your get-up today, you look really fancy,” you said. “What’s the occasion?”

“I’m recording my news show tonight at 6:30,” he said. “I thought I’d put my suit on early to speed things up a little.”

“Oh, let’s get started right away then! I don’t want to take up too much of your time.”

You two walked around the empty lot, thinking about how the nightclub should be oriented. You figured it would be best to have the entrance face the same way as the mall’s to maintain consistency. You took out your notebook, adding measurements to your sketches after determining that 8000 square feet would be an ideal size for the nightclub, along with a large parking lot.

Afterwards, you and Mettaton headed back to the meeting room in his hotel. You considered more factors to account for, like the locations of the storage room, office, and restrooms. You played around with the floor plan to see where those rooms would best fit, and settled on a decision: storage and restrooms would be right by the bar, and the office would sit by the entrance.

Now that you had more details on the interior, you began to focus on the exterior. You made quick sketches of what the outside of the nightclub would look like, keeping Mettaton’s ‘fancy and flashy’ description in mind. The buildings you drew were both geometric and ornate, matching with the sharp angles of his box form. In a few sketches, you included a wide portico with columns for a classier look.

“Oh, we also need a red carpet at the entrance,” Mettaton piped in. “It’ll make my customers feel posh and ready to be indulged!”

You smirked and quickly added a red carpet to the entrance of your drawings. The sketches were all variations of each other, but with notable differences. Your favorites were the ones where Box Mettaton sat above the words ‘MTT NIGHTCLUB’ in neon lights. In the end, your sketches took up three pages, thirty designs in total. It was enough for Mettaton to choose the best ones among them.

“Okay, Mettaton,” you began. “Choose your five favorite sketches, and I’ll make more elaborate designs for them at home. During our next meeting, I’ll show you the upgraded versions. Then you can choose the best one so I can start a proper drawing, and eventually a 3D model of it along with the floor plan.”

“Alright, darling,” he said before tapping a gloved hand to where his chin should be. His eyes then began to roam over the pages. “Hm… I adore the ones where my face is protruding from the building like a relief sculpture. But at the same time, I quite like the ones where it’s flat and my box form is part of the neon signs. What if we combined the two together, so that my face could light up in 3D?”

You chuckled. “Huh, okay. I hadn’t considered that. That’s both fancy and flashy.”

“Just what I’m looking for! I also like the lit-up columns that support the portico, so I’ll definitely want those,” he said, pointing out the sketches where you included them. “It has that upscale look I’m going for, like the entrance to a mansion.”

You put checkmarks by the designs Mettaton favored. He also approved of the ones where his face sat above the name of the nightclub, just like you did. You made a note to yourself to try and come up with a design for his face that would be both lit-up and three-dimensional.

The meeting felt like it was coming to a close. You checked the time. It was 5:25, and the next five minutes would be enough to wrap things up.

“Alright, Mettaton, I have a better understanding of what you’re looking for now,” you said. “Thanks so much for another good discussion today. When would you like to meet up next?”

“Actually, darling…” Mettaton began, his voice dropping to a more serious note. Your stomach lurched, and you prepared yourself for whatever it was about to come. 

“Before that meeting happens, I’d prefer it if our next one could be more… _personal_ in nature. What I’m saying is, I’d like to go on a date with you. Unless, of course, you’d prefer our relationship to stay purely professional. If that is the case, I can put my interest in you aside and we can pretend this never happened.”

‘ _Why?’_ was the first word that popped into your mind. You followed it up with a more specific question: _‘Why me?’_

It wasn’t that you felt unworthy of Mettaton, per se. You were just baffled by the fact that he could have chosen someone else to ask out, and yet he picked _you_. There were plenty of other people much better-suited for him, someone more his speed. Someone who was actually a fan of his, someone who he worked closely with, or someone he had known for years. You were a normal person just trying to do her job and live a quiet, humble life. What was someone like Mettaton, boisterous and extraverted as he was, trying to do getting involved with someone like you?

Still, you weren’t against the idea of going on a date with him. You were curious to see how the date would play out. After all, you had an entrepreneurial spirit and took a huge risk to run your own business, so you didn’t let opportunities pass you by no matter how nervous they made you.

“U-uh, sure, yeah. Sounds like fun,” you managed to muster out.

“Oh, how wonderful!” Mettaton exclaimed, a heart shape showing up on his lights. “We can go to the new Italian place that just opened on Summit Street. I have all of Saturday off, so would you like to go at 6:00PM for dinner?”

“O-okay,” you said. “I can meet you there.”

“Oh, but traffic is so dreadful, darling. It’s bad enough that you have to deal with it on the way to our meetings. Why don’t I have my chauffeur pick you up and drive both of us over to the restaurant? He’ll drop you off at the end of the night too, of course.”

You thought about how out-of-place you’d look inside a big fancy limo, and how embarrassed you’d feel to have your neighbors see you go inside. You’d become the talk of the town, hanging out with the world’s number-one celebrity robot. Not to mention the amount of suitors Mettaton has ridden with in the limo…

You pushed those thoughts out of your head. Mettaton’s way of life intrigued you. He was a bold maximalist, while you were more of a quiet minimalist. You wanted to see what it would be like to walk a mile in his shoes (or more literally, ride a mile in his limo), so you couldn’t turn down his offer.

“O-okay,” you said. “I’m not sure if my AirBnB host would appreciate it if I gave away her address to a stranger, so maybe you can pick me up at Napstablook’s instead? Only if they’re okay with me coming over, of course.”

“Of course they’d be okay with it!” Mettaton’s lights formed into a smiley face. “You know, darling, that’s part of the reason why I asked you out.”

“What do you mean?”

His lights formed back into its default M-shape as his tone of voice grew serious again. “Ever since you moved to Ebott Grove, Blooky’s gotten a bit more confident,” he said. “They told me you’ve been hanging out some more, and even though you haven’t known each other for long, they already consider you a good friend. You’ve been nothing but kind to my cousin, and for that, you’ve shown me that you have great character. Anyone who brings out the best in my loved ones, I’d want to spend time with too.”

You couldn’t smile wide enough to express your gratitude for his heartfelt words. “I—” you chuckled nervously. “Wow... Thank you, that’s really sweet. I like hanging out with Napstablook too, and I’m certain I’ll feel the same way about you. I mean, even these meetings have been enjoyable. I love planning ideas with a client.”

Mettaton took one of your hands and wrapped both of his around it. “You are as passionate as you are skilled at your work, and I find that very endearing.”

As was customary whenever Mettaton gave you a compliment, your face grew hot and you were speechless. Luckily, before you could stammer like an idiot, he withdrew his hands from yours and spoke again.

“Well, it’s time for me to go, darling. I have news to report and an audience to inform. I’ll pick you up at Blooky’s place at 5:30 on Saturday, so we can start our date at 6:00.”

You nodded. “A-alright, sounds good. Have fun with your show.”

“Oh, I certainly will,” he said. “Take care and stay beautiful!”

He began wheeling backwards as he waved goodbye at you. You laughed as you waved back at him. Mettaton could be a dork when he wanted to be.

You went inside your car. Before you drove off, you texted Napstablook to tell them you’d be going on a date with Mettaton (somehow, typing that out made the event feel even more real), and asked them if it was okay to hang at their place before you got picked up. 

You began the drive home. A song of Mettaton’s played on the radio. This time, you didn’t switch to another station. Instead, you smiled and nodded your head to the music.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading. This is the first multi-chapter fic I've ever written; the last times I tried, I just couldn't keep up with it. But I think I'll be able to keep up with this one because I adore Mettaton and my creativity has been going up lately.
> 
> Anyway, comments are much appreciated as usual. I'd love to hear your thoughts.


	3. Sangiovese and Tiramisu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The date goes well, but the end of it does not. This is where reader's anxiety with romance and relationships begins to kick in.

You felt queasy when you woke up on Saturday. You went through the motions just like any other day, but today was different. All you could think about was how the date would go. You didn’t feel equipped to handle it, because you hadn’t gone out with someone in years. There were so many things that could go wrong, you didn’t think about the ways it could go right. If you said or did something that offended Mettaton, then your opportunity to work on his nightclub would probably fly out the window. If that happened, you would be distraught—even more so when you discovered the other architect who ended up designing the nightclub. Then every time you would see Mettaton on screen or listen to his music, you would only be reminded of your lost opportunity.

You shook those thoughts out of your head and looked through your closet. As a career woman, you had a prestigious image to maintain, and you had a closet full of nice clothes to show for it. Still, none of them seemed nice enough for tonight. You knew your paranoia was irrational, so you tried not to overthink your outfit choices. You picked out a tried-and-true ensemble that had received compliments before, knowing the perfect makeup look to go along with it.

In the middle of doing your makeup, the doorbell rang. You flinched at the unexpected sound, messing up your eyeliner. You groaned and rapidly rubbed your eye with makeup remover. You then rushed to the door, dismissing how silly you looked with the other eye fully made-up.

You answered the door, and saw Sans and Papyrus standing on the porch with tupperware in their arms.

“GOOD AFTERNOON, HUMAN!” Papyrus beamed. “I MADE SEVERAL BATCHES OF CANNOLI THIS MORNING. MY BROTHER AND I ARE GOING AROUND TOWN AND DELIVERING THEM TO ALL OUR FRIENDS. YOUR PLACE IS OUR FIRST STOP, BECAUSE YOU LIVE RIGHT NEXT DOOR.”

You felt bad now for getting irritated by the sound of the doorbell. “Oh, wow! Thank you so much! I’m sure I’ll love them, because I enjoy your cooking.”

“OF COURSE YOU WILL LOVE THEM, THE GREAT PAPYRUS NEVER DISAPPOINTS!” Papyrus handed you one tupperware, and you took it with a smile. 

He then examined your eye, raising a brow quizzically. “MAY I ASK WHY YOU HAVE APPLIED COSMETICS ON ONLY ONE EYE? IS THIS A NEW TREND AMONG HUMAN WOMEN THAT I HAVE NOT HEARD OF?”

You were reminded why you were doing your makeup in the first place, and you tensed up. “N-no, I was in the middle of doing my makeup before you came over…”

“OH? WHAT IS THE OCCASION?” Papyrus gasped as a thought occurred to him. “OOOOH, I KNOW, I KNOW! YOU’RE GOING ON A DATE, AREN’T YOU?!”

You averted your gaze from him as your voice grew smaller. “I-I am...”

“WOWIE!” Papyrus yelled. “YOU HAVE ONLY BEEN HERE FOR TWO WEEKS, AND YOU HAVE ALREADY MADE A LOVE INTEREST! YOUR CHARMS MUST BE SO IRRESISTIBLE! WHO IS THE LUCKY PERSON YOU WILL BE TAKING OUT TONIGHT?”

You felt the urge to close the door on Sans and Papyrus to avoid digging into this topic, but you knew that would be rude. You sighed, tightening your grip on the tupperware. “If you both promise to keep quiet about this, I’ll tell you who it is.”

“I, THE GREAT AND TRUSTWORTHY PAPYRUS, AM A HOARDER OF MANY FRIENDS’ SECRETS! I PROMISE TO KEEP YOUR POTENTIAL LOVER UNBEKNOWNST TO OTHERS!”

Before you could even open your mouth to reply, Sans beat you to it.

“it’s mettaton,” he said, his grin smug as ever.

Papyrus gasped even louder than earlier. “METTATON?! IS THAT CORRECT, HUMAN?! YOU ARE GOING ON A DATE WITH THE ONE AND ONLY METTATON?!”

You crossed your arms and glared at Sans. He was too perceptive for his own good.

“How did _you_ know?” you asked with an edge to your tone.

“simple. he’s a celebrity, so naturally you’d want to keep the date under wraps. plus, you keep meeting up with him on the job, so you must’ve gotten to know each other enough to spark an interest.”

You would’ve rolled your eyes if you didn’t admire Sans’s wit. “Congrats on closing the case, Sherlock.”

“HUMAN,” Papyrus piped in. “BECAUSE YOU ARE GOING OUT WITH THE LIKES OF METTATON, YOU CANNOT MESS THIS UP! I HAVE A DATING MANUAL THAT I CAN LEND YOU, I CAN GET IT RIGHT NOW IF YOU PLEASE.”

“It’s alright, Papyrus. I’ll get by just being myself.”

“OH! THAT IS A GREAT ALTERNATIVE TO USING THE DATING MANUAL. AFTER ALL, BEING YOURSELF IS WHAT MADE METTATON LIKE YOU ENOUGH TO ASK YOU OUT!”

Just the thought of Mettaton liking you made your stomach lurch. You couldn’t help but think this was all a big joke. Even though he didn’t strike you as a manipulative person, you couldn’t shake the feeling that Mettaton was merely amusing you for his own entertainment.

“so did you tell HR you’ll be going out with a client?” Sans joked with a wink.

You smirked. “I am my own HR, and I’ve already given myself the okay to go out with him. I’m all good.”

“glad everything worked out alright,” Sans smirked back. “well, hope you have fun, kiddo. if nothing else, at least you’ll get a pampering of a lifetime.”

“Oh, and how do you know that?” you asked tauntingly, getting ready for payback after Sans smugly predicted who your date was. “You’ve been on a date with Mettaton before?”

Sans laughed, and somehow it made you feel less nervous about tonight. “yup, plenty of ‘em. he’s taken me on a metta- _ton_ of dates.”

“OH, COME ON!” Papyrus groaned. “YOU’VE USED THAT ONE COUNTLESS TIMES BEFORE! AT LEAST TRY TO BE CREATIVE!”

“Seconded,” you agreed.

“just because a joke’s been used before, doesn’t mean it can’t be funny after the first time,” Sans said defensively.

“WELL, THAT RULE DOESN’T APPLY TO YOUR JOKES, BROTHER!”

Sans sucked in a breath, though he was more amused than anything else. “ouch. words hurt, bro.”

You covered your face and laughed, careful to not ruin your one-eyed makeup.

“ANYWAY, HUMAN, WE BETTER LEAVE BEFORE SANS MAKES MORE AWFUL JOKES AND THE CANNOLI GETS SOGGY,” Papyrus said. “HAVE FUN ON YOUR DATE, AND PLEASE TELL METTATON THAT YOUR GOOD FRIEND PAPYRUS, WHO HELPED MOVE HIS BELONGINGS FIVE YEARS AGO, IS HIS BESTEST, MOST LOYALEST FAN!”

You chuckled. “Sure thing. I’m certain he’ll remember you. After all, you’d be a difficult person to forget.”

“MY DAZZLING PERSONALITY IS A LEGACY IN ITSELF!” Papyrus exclaimed proudly. “WELL, GOODBYE NOW, MY FRIEND. PLEASE TELL US ALL ABOUT HOW THE DATE WENT TOMORROW.”

“and spare the gory details,” Sans piped in, smirking as you rolled your eyes. “see ya, kiddo.”

“See you two later,” you said before shutting the door. You put the cannoli in the fridge, planning to indulge in it tomorrow. You then went back to the bathroom and finished doing your makeup, before going to your room to get dressed.

After grabbing your purse, you gave yourself a once-over in the mirror. You looked formal enough to fit in at an expensive sit-down Italian restaurant. You were all set.

After heading out the door, you drove to Napstablook’s place instead of walked. You were wearing heels, and you didn’t want people to stare at you because of your fancy attire.

Once you arrived at Blook Acres, you rang the doorbell. Napstablook answered, and widened their eyes.

“oh, hey… you look so pretty,” they said.

“Thanks, Blooky,” you replied. “I certainly tried.”

You walked inside the house, sitting on one of the chairs meant for Napstablook’s corporeal guests. You glanced at the ticking clock. It was 5:00, and you had half an hour to kill. In an hour, you’d be sitting across from Mettaton, looking into each other’s eyes over a candlelit dinner. Your stomach began to feel sick again, and the pain showed on your face.

“are you alright?” Napstablook asked in concern, floating closer to you.

“Yeah, for the most part,” you sighed. “I’m just really nervous. I haven’t been on a date in years, because I’ve been so focused on my career. And I had no idea that someone like Mettaton would be my next suitor.”

“well, if it makes you feel any better, mettaton likes to talk about you a lot…” Napstablook said. “he seems to like you, so i don’t think you could mess this up unless you tried…”

That did make you feel better, but hearing from someone else that Mettaton was interested in you made you even more anxious. None of this felt real. You should be back at home, working on sketches, reading, learning new things, _anything_ devoted to being productive and improving yourself. Not stressing about some guy and worrying about how your date with him will go.

You sucked it up and put on a brave face. “That’s good to know. Thanks for reassuring me, Blooky.”

You spent the rest of the time listening to Napstablook’s newest music. They had been working on the audio files Mettaton gave them on a thumb drive a couple weeks ago. Most of them were works in progress, but they sounded promising.

At 5:30, you heard multiple knocks on the door accompanied by a voice trilling, “knock knock!” You and Napstablook turned around as the door opened. You tilted your head up, and your heart leapt in your throat as you stared at Mettaton in his EX form, looking nothing short of divine in a black suit and pink tie.

“Hello there, darlings!” he grinned as he strutted towards you and Napstablook. Mettaton now had a good look at you, and you swore you saw a tiny pixelated heart floating in his eye. “My, my, just when I thought it wasn’t possible for you to get anymore gorgeous!”

Your cheeks grew hot. This was _already_ too much. “Yeah, guess I outdid myself this time,” you said casually, before adding in for good measure, “You look amazing too.”

“Oh, don’t I know it!” he exclaimed, shutting his eyes and striking a dramatic pose. You looked over at Napstablook in bemusement, but their face remained blank as they looked back at you.

Mettaton then stood up straight and extended a gloved hand towards you. “Are you ready to leave now, darling? I have a table reserved on the rooftop, so it’s best that we arrive on time.”

There was nothing more you wanted than to go back listening to music and hanging out with Napstablook, or sitting in the comfort of your temporary home. It was fun, familiar, and didn't make you gut-wrenchingly anxious. 

Still, you persevered. There was no turning back now.

“Yeah, ready as I’ll ever be,” you said. You took his hand and stood up, and the height difference was staggering. Mettaton was at least two heads taller than you, and you had to crane your neck to look up at him. It was so ludicrous.

“Well, we’ll see you later, Blooky!” Mettaton said, still holding your hand. “Goodbye, darling!”

“See you, Blooky.”

“bye, you two… have fun.”

“Oh, we will,” Mettaton grinned, then you were both out the door. Outside sat a black limo with pink accents. Mettaton opened the door and you thanked him before hopping in. He stepped in after you, as you stopped and stared inside the limo. There was a black leather seat that stretched from end to end, a mini bar with an assortment of drinks, long tinted windows, and neon lights to illuminate the scene. It almost looked like a miniature model for the nightclub.

“... Wow,” was all you could say, too blown away by the luxury to even think of sitting down.

Mettaton smiled. “Marvelous, isn’t it?”

“Sure is,” you said, thinking about your outdated sedan with cracked leather seats, and how it didn’t compare to anything here.

The chauffeur started to drive, and you nearly lost your balance from the abrupt movement. Mettaton took your hand before you could fall to the ground.

“Careful, darling. We should really sit down now.”

You two sat down next to each other. The leather seat was laid out so that the contents of the mini bar were within arm’s reach.

“Fancy a drink, dear?”

“U-uh, no, I’m okay, thank you,” you said. “I’ll wait to have wine with my meal.”

“Oh, good point! It would be rather inappropriate to show up tipsy at a fancy restaurant, so I’ll refrain from a drink right now too.”

You looked out the window across from you, and saw Sans and Papyrus walking down the street, still carrying tupperware. They turned their heads to look at the limo shortly before you passed by them. You quickly waved at them, but you weren’t sure if they saw you.

“Oh, did you see somebody you know?” Mettaton asked.

“Yeah, my friends Sans and Papyrus,” you said. “You’ve met them before, or at least that’s what they’ve told me. They helped move your belongings up to the surface.”

Mettaton raised a brow in thought, before his face lit up. “Oh, yes! I remember them. The tall one was eccentric. He was loud and proud, and he carried the boxes as though they were only filled with feathers.”

“Yeah, the tall one’s Papyrus,” you said, then remembered what he had told you earlier. “He also wanted me to let you know that he’s your ‘bestest, most loyalest fan’. The grammatically incorrect choice of words were his, not mine.”

Mettaton laughed. “Oh, that’s terribly sweet. I see all my fans as equals, though. Their love for me and my work shouldn’t turn into a competition.”

“Papyrus can be competitive, though. So I don’t think he’ll appreciate it if I told him what you said,” you smirked.

Mettaton smirked back. “Well, in that case, just tell him I said, ‘thank you for your continued support, and I still think you’re the strongest monster around.’”

You chuckled. “There we go, that’s what he’d want to hear.”

Throughout the ride, you kept making idle conversation. You started to relax more, until you stepped out of the limo with Mettaton. All eyes were on both of you, and you instinctively shrank away. You just wanted to spend time with Mettaton and get to know him better, not have others see you and start gossiping about you being his potential love interest. Your brain became foggy with the realization that going out with Mettaton would mean giving up some of your privacy.

You were quiet, keeping your eyes downcast as you were led to your reserved seats on the rooftop. You looked up once you reached the last step on the stairs, greeted with a gorgeous view of the cityscape at sunset. The beauty of it made you feel a bit better.

You and Mettaton took a seat across from each other, and started looking through the menu. There were plenty of options for both humans and monsters. You had tried monster food before, and it was better to have for lighter meals because it didn’t require digestion. Instead, it would turn into energy as soon as it hit your tongue. But you were starving, so you stayed in the section of the menu for humans.

“The view is so beautiful tonight, isn’t it?” Mettaton asked.

You snapped out of your thoughts from trying to decide what you wanted, and looked around to re-familiarize yourself with your surroundings. The light from the sunset gave Mettaton’s metallic face a warm orange glow, and you couldn’t help but get lost in that heavenly detail. “Yeah, it really is,” you said.

Mettaton’s face twisted into a smug grin, and he chuckled. “You’re looking right at me, darling. Are you implying that _I’m_ the beautiful view?”

Shit, you hadn’t realized you were staring at him. “O-oh—” you stammered, starting to get flustered. “I didn’t mean to do that. N-not that you’re _not_ a beautiful sight. You are. But the sunset is gorgeous too.”

You chided yourself for tripping over your words, but Mettaton didn’t seem to mind. “You’ve got both me and the sunset to marvel at right now. You’re currently the world’s luckiest woman.”

His fans would certainly agree, and they would kill to be in your place. Meanwhile, you were still in denial that this was even happening. It all felt like a dream, like you were a mere observer of the event. You picked up the menu again, hiding your face behind it and reading through it to distract yourself from your thoughts.

A gloved hand gripped the top of your menu, and pulled it down. Mettaton had a look of concern on his face.

“You know, you don’t need to hide from me, darling.”

You blushed. “Sorry,” was all you could say.

“Don’t be,” he reassured you. “Just relax. You’re in good company, and we’re going to have a great time together,” he smiled. “Now, gorgeous, which wine would you like to pair with your meal tonight?”

You were relieved he kept the pep talk brief. If you had heard anything more saccharine, you would’ve grown short with him for sounding patronizing. “I’m not picky, really. Just anything that’ll go well with pasta.”

“ _Anything_ that’ll go well with pasta?” he repeated with a smirk. “This is an Italian restaurant, dear, so that applies to every single wine on the menu. Are you telling me I should order the entire wine selection?”

You laughed, feeling yourself relax again. “Well, sure. We’ll become the restaurant’s best customers of the month. They’ll take our pictures and hang them up on the wall.”

Mettaton chuckled. “Well, we both look gorgeous. I’ll tell the staff we’re ready for them to take our pictures whenever they are.

You smirked. “Give me a moment, I’ll pick out a flavor of wine before our waiter comes over.”

You had channeled your inner Sans, with a little trick up your sleeve. You looked through the list of Italian wines, hunting for the one with the most difficult name to pronounce. _Sangiovese_ tripped you up the most.

You moved your menu towards Mettaton and pointed at the name. “This one. I want you to say this out loud to the waiter.”

“ _Sangiovese,_ ” he said with the accent to match, giving you a smug smile.

Well, that backfired. “Is _that_ how you say it?” you asked to be certain.

“I’m a robot, darling. Any fan would know that I have multiple languages downloaded into my system.”

“Goddammit,” you said. “And here I thought I was going to fool you, but I only fooled myself.”

“Remember that next time you try to underestimate my abilities,” Mettaton laughed. “Now, have you found any appetizers that appeal to you? And this time, I want _you_ to say them out loud, don’t just point them out to me.”

You glared at him. “You’re evil.”

He raised his brow. “How am _I_ evil when I’m the one paying and letting you order whatever you want?”

“... Touché,” you slyly admitted defeat. “Thanks for paying, by the way.”

You looked through the list under the _Antipasti_ section, and pronounced the ones you were interested in out loud. You messed up only one word, and Mettaton corrected you with a chuckle. The waiter arrived, and you put in your orders for the appetizers and Sangiovese.

“I just can’t decide what I want for the main course,” Mettaton said after the waiter left. “Everything sounds so good.”

“It really does,” you agreed, before a thought occurred to you. “I’m not sure if this is an intrusive question to ask, but how can you eat without a stomach?”

“That’s not intrusive at all, darling, I get that one a lot,” he assured you. “My creator, Dr Alphys, installed an artificial stomach inside my body. It doesn’t function the same way a human stomach does, the food just dissolves after awhile of sitting in my stomach.”

You widened your eyes. “Oh, wow. How does that work?”

“That’s a question you’d have to ask Alphys, dear, because I don’t know. I’m not concerned with _how_ it works, I only care _that_ it works,” he chuckled. “You know, I should introduce you to Alphys sometime. You would get along well, the two of you are smart and funny,” your heart raced upon hearing that compliment. “She’s always eager to make new friends and learn new things. I’ll bet she’d take some notes as soon as you start talking about architecture with her.”

You liked the sound of Alphys already. “Yeah, if she ever wants to meet up, just let me know,” you smiled. “You can be my wingman in our potential friendship.”

“Wonderful!” he exclaimed, clapping his hands together. “I’d send a text to let her know right now, but I’d rather give you my full attention. Well, after we choose what we want as our main course, that is. Let’s decide before we continue our conversation.”

You smirked. “Alright.”

You turned your attention back to the menu again. You played a mental game of eeny, meeny, miny, moe to decide between the dishes you were most interested in. The waiter arrived with the wine, complimentary bread, and appetizers, before you and Mettaton put your order in for the entrées.

You stared in awe at all the food in front of you. “I feel like I’m going to get full on all of this alone.”

Mettaton chuckled. “Yes, there’s certainly a lot to try here. Let’s dig in, darling.”

The two of you filled your plates with appetizers. In the middle of the act, it occurred to you how wrong it looked for Mettaton to pick up food with his silky white gloves.

“Don’t you remove your gloves before you eat?” you asked.

Mettaton frowned a little. “I prefer to keep them on all the time. Besides, I can always wash them. But if the stains are too stubborn to come out, I have plenty of replacements.”

“... Why do you wear them all the time?” you asked hesitantly, hoping you weren’t overstepping any boundaries. “If you don’t mind my asking, of course.”

He shrugged. “Makes me look more human that way.”

There was a slight pinch to his voice as he spoke, as though he felt weak for admitting it. You felt shitty for even bringing it up.

“Oh…” you said, trying to think of a good save. “Well, humans’ looks aren’t inherently superior to robots’. You were built beautifully, Mettaton. Your hands are nothing to be ashamed of.”

Mettaton smiled at you. “Thank you, darling. I’ll be sure to mark your words.”

You mentally exhaled a sigh of relief. You weren’t exactly the best at comforting others, so you were glad you were able to help Mettaton a bit.

“So,” he began, trying to move past his faux pas of showing unusual insecurity, “what made you interested in architecture, gorgeous?”

You set down your half-eaten piece of bruschetta, thinking through your answer first. “Well, I like how it combines both creativity and logical thinking,” you began. “I get enjoyment out of planning, problem-solving, and looking at things from different angles. Plus, it’s so rewarding to see your designs come to life, knowing that it’s useful to others.”

“I see,” Mettaton said with intrigue. “So how did you get there? Did you just start drawing buildings and it progressed from there? Because your sketches are actually really good. You’re something of an artist, if I do say so myself.”

You tried not to focus too much on the heat rising to your cheeks. “Well, architects are visual people, but they don’t necessarily have to be amazing artists. They just have to be good enough to get their ideas down on paper and make 3D models. But yeah, I started drawing at a young age, and I studied hard in my math classes. So I just combined my skills in art and mathematics, and decided pursuing architecture would be a great fit for me.”

“And look where you are now!” Mettaton grinned. “I remember you said you left firms to become self-employed. I was similar to you in that I wanted to make TV shows all by myself when I started Underground. I didn’t want anyone else to steal my limelight, but then Frisk came along. They’re the monsters’ ambassador to humans, as you probably already know. Their stage presence was just as dazzling as mine, and they helped my ratings go up. Hosting an impromptu dance battle with them reminded me that even though I love having all eyes on me, the spotlight is even better when shared with others. That’s why I asked Blooky and our friend Shyren to start making music with me.”

You nodded, absorbing his words. “It’s understandable you wanted all the attention, though. It feels good knowing you’re responsible for your own success. That’s exactly why I stopped working for firms; I want to be recognized for my own efforts, instead of having my ideas be a small part of the equation. Guess you and I developed in reverse, huh?”

He smirked. “Yes, though I still get enjoyment out of solitary work. I’m a lyricist, I write my own scripts when I feel inspired, and I come up with my own choreography. I feel like people don’t realize just how hard I work on that, though. They only get to see Mettaton the performer, not the Mettaton at home hunched at his desk, working long hours and writing new material.”

“That’s very admirable, and plenty of others would think so,” you said. “Not all singers, actors and dancers can say that they come up with their own songs, scripts, and choreography. You’re a very talented man, Mettaton.”

He smiled widely. “Thank you, darling.”

“Of course,” you smiled back at him. “Now it’s my turn to ask you, how did _you_ become interested in being an entertainer?”

“Well,” he said, sitting up straighter in his seat, getting prepared to tell a long story. “I lived near a garbage dump Underground, and I know that doesn’t sound very glamorous. But I would sometimes go through the piles of trash and end up finding treasure: fashion magazines, DVD’s, and CD’s that were still in good condition. I’d bring them back home and read the magazines, watch the DVD’s, listen to the CD’s, and become blown away by how creative humans are. I grew to love humans, and I wanted to be just like them. So I started teaching myself to sing, dance, and act along to all the music and movies I had.”

You were intrigued by all of this. “That’s so cool. I can tell you’ve worked so hard! I guess humans’ bad habit of throwing away perfectly good things helped with something, huh?”

Mettaton chuckled. “Yes. Little did you know, your trash became donations to the Underground. Honestly, most monsters had little respect for humans, and some sought vengeance on the next ones to fall down. But I was never like that. I started my own human fanclub in hopes of finding other monsters who adored humans. And that, my dear, is how I met Dr Alphys. She and I ended up being the only members, but we still had lots of fun together.”

“A human fanclub?” you smiled. “I gotta say, that’s really adorable. What kinds of things did you and Alphys do during your meetings?”

“She and I would meet up every Saturday, talking about human culture and things we found in the garbage dump. I must say, though, she sometimes made our casual meetings feel more like lectures. I’d just sit there like a student at their desk as she talked her mouth off. I did it because I knew she needed an outlet for her passion about many subjects. She focused on more scientific topics, like human anatomy, psychology, and sociology. But when it came to stuff like movies, TV, music, and fashion in the human world, I’d be the one lecturing her. Alphys would show me these awful cartoons that I had no interest in, though. I later learned that humans call it anime. Now I distance myself from anime whenever I see it.”

You laughed, amused by the dynamic Mettaton and Alphys had. But you stopped when you realized that something didn’t add up. “W-wait...” you began. “If Alphys is your creator, how was it possible that you started a human fanclub _before_ meeting her?”

Mettaton’s eye widened like a deer caught in the headlights. He was only saved when the waiter came by to drop off your dishes and refill your glasses of wine. The atmosphere between you and Mettaton remained tense even after the waiter left.

After a couple of bites, you set your fork down and looked up at him. You normally didn’t face conflict with others head-on, but you really hadn’t meant to offend him, and you didn’t want the date to go up in flames.

“L-look,” you said. “I’m not sure if I said something wrong, but if I did, then I’m sorr—”

Mettaton raised a hand. “Don’t apologize,” he responded curtly, then set his hand down as his tone grew lighter again. “So how do you like the food, darling?”

You hadn’t expected him to let you off the hook and change the subject so abruptly. You were still curious how it was possible that he met Alphys before she invented him, but he clearly didn’t want you to pry into that part of his life. It hurt you a little because it made you feel like he couldn’t trust you, but you barely knew each other and you understood that he had boundaries.

“It’s really good. The pasta has just the right amount of bite to it,” you replied, trying to smooth things over. You didn’t mention that you thought the pasta was overpriced despite its good quality; it was well within Mettaton’s budget anyway.

“I’m glad to hear it,” he said. “So what were you thinking of for dessert?”

You raised your brows. “Dessert?”

“Why, certainly. A meal at a five-star restaurant isn’t complete without dessert.”

Well, Sans was completely right about Mettaton pampering you. After all, he had experience going on dates with him. You smirked to yourself at the joke from earlier, until you realized that all of this was too much. You almost felt like you were taking advantage of Mettaton’s money and generosity. But he was the one offering all these luxuries to you, so what kind of person would you be to turn them down?

“Hm…” you began thinking out loud, “since this is an Italian restaurant, I think tiramisu would be fitting.”

“That sounds fabulous! Though if you’re feeling too full, you and I can split an order.”

Something about that sounded oddly romantic—even more so now that the sun had set, and the waiter came over to light the candles on your table to offset the darkness. It felt warmer between you and Mettaton now, both literally and figuratively. You did your best to ignore the rising heat as you kept eating.

After Mettaton ordered the tiramisu, you couldn’t help but say, “God, this was the best meal I’ve had in a long while.”

“Oh? Are the meals you usually have mediocre compared to this?”

“Yeah, I suppose so,” you shrugged. “I don’t indulge in the finer things in life too often.”

“If that’s the case, then I should take you out more often,” Mettaton said with a playful grin.

The thought of going on _more_ dates with him made you feel… you weren’t sure. You couldn’t pinpoint it. It was a strange flurry of anxiety, resistance, and excitement. You had no idea how to appropriately respond to Mettaton, so you just gave him a smile that you hoped didn’t look like a grimace.

The tiramisu arrived. It was a large portion, just the right amount for two people. You and Mettaton picked up your forks and began to eat. There definitely was something romantic about sharing food, bonding with him over one of the delectable delights life had to offer. The tiramisu was light and airy on your tongue, perfect after a heavy, carb-laden meal. The candle and city lights illuminated against Mettaton’s face, and for the first time since moving to Ebott Grove, you felt at peace. You adored Sans, Papyrus, and Napstablook, but meeting up with them and Mettaton frequently drained your batteries, along with getting adjusted to a new town.

Mettaton glanced up at you and smiled. “You look happy, darling.”

“Oh, I do?” you chuckled. “I didn’t realize. I just feel… peaceful right now. It’s nice to sit back and take a break, after spending the past couple weeks moving in and meeting new people.”

“I’m glad you’ve been having a great time tonight,” he said. “Despite all the stress, do you like it in Ebott Grove so far?”

“Yes, the people are friendlier, and it’s so much more slow-paced and laid-back there,” you said. “I used to live in Sky City, and the hustle and bustle of everyday life was chaotic. It was so crowded, overpolluted, everything moved so fast, it was overwhelming. Now I’m in a place where I belong, even if humans are the minority.”

“Oh yes, someone like you fits right in. And you came at the right time, too. If you had waited later to move, I probably would have found another architect, and you wouldn’t have met _me._ ”

You smirked. “A life without you would truly be a shame.”

The two of you finished dessert, and you were so stuffed, you felt you had eaten for both today and tomorrow. The waiter came with the bill, and Mettaton slipped his credit card inside the sleeve. You didn’t even want to think about how much the total came to.

“You look so tired now. Are you ready to go home, darling?” he asked after he had gotten his credit card back and everything was paid for.

“Yeah, I’m so full,” you said. “Thank you so much for the meal. It was everything I wanted and more.”

“You know I’m happy to treat you,” he replied with a smile as he squeezed your hand.

You both stood up and began to walk downstairs from the rooftop, his arm slinked around your waist. You hadn’t expected it, but you didn’t mind. In fact, you felt as though you could get used to it if he tried it again in the future.

You arrived back at Napstablook’s house. You two peeked inside their place to say hi and let them know the date went well, before Mettaton walked you to your parked car.

“Thank you again for everything,” you said. “It was nice talking to you and getting to know you a little more.”

Mettaton gave you a grin that made your heart burst. “Likewise, my dear. I’d love to keep spending time with you outside of our meetings, if that’s alright with you.”

You smiled back. “Yes, of course it is. Just, uh, text me and we can name a time and a place.”

“Gladly,” he said. 

His eyes were hazy and half-lidded as he looked down at you. It was an expression that was more impassioned than the ones he had ever given you before. He began leaning in towards you, and alarms began going off in your head. You wanted to lean in and close the gap too, but it didn’t _feel_ right. This shouldn’t be happening, you _had_ to leave—

“I, um—I really should get going now!” you exclaimed, trying not to trip over your words as you opened the door. “I’ll keep in touch with you, see you later!”

The glint in his eye went out as his face fell. “Oh, alright then. Bye.”

Your heart hammered in your chest as you got in your car and turned on the ignition. You avoided looking at him through the window as you backed up, relieved once your car was out of Mettaton’s peripheral vision.

Goddammit. _Goddammit!_ You had fucked things up, didn’t you? You had just rejected one of the most lusted-after men in the world, who was also a funny, passionate, and generous person off-camera. He clearly loved your company, and you loved his too, but you made the build-up tonight all for naught thanks to your anxiety.

You were at least thankful that the drive back home was short, because your vision grew blurry with tears as you berated yourself. Mettaton wasn’t an intimidating person at all once you looked past his celebrity persona. So why were you _afraid?_

You arrived at Queenie’s house, quickly wiped away your makeup, and changed into your pajamas at lightning speed before flopping onto the bed face-first. The look of disappointment on Mettaton’s face after fleeing from him kept flashing in your mind. You emotionally prepared yourself for the message he would send about not wanting to work with you anymore. After all, you had tossed him to the side, so it was logical that he’d want to give you the same treatment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I headcanon that Mettaton's past life as a ghost is somewhat of a sore subject for him. He wants people to see him as a fun-loving, larger than life robot, not a sad little ghost occupying a hollow shell.
> 
> Also, don't worry, things will pick themselves back up as time goes on. As usual, thanks for reading and comments are much appreciated!


	4. Mall Together Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You tell Sans and Papyrus about the date before the third meeting for the nightclub. The next week, you, Mettaton, and Napstablook take Frisk back-to-school shopping. You and Mettaton still get along well, but the situation between you two starts to look a little uncertain.

“A FIVE-STAR ITALIAN RESTAURANT, HUH?” Papyrus said, a haughty edge to his tone. “METTATON COULD’VE DONE BETTER. HE COULD’VE TAKEN YOU TO THAT’S AMORE PASTA.”

“Well, your restaurant is definitely better in some ways,” you said to appease him, though you were also telling the truth. “It’s inexpensive, and has a friendly environment like many locally-owned places do. Not to mention that the best chef in the world works there!”

“NYEH HEH HEH! NOT ONLY IS YOUR COMPLIMENT FLATTERING, IT IS ALSO TRUE,” Papyrus beamed. “SO, WHAT DID YOU AND METTATON DO ON THE DATE? THE DATING MANUAL HAS A LOT OF INFORMATION, BUT I COULD ALSO LEARN FROM MY FRIENDS’ EXPERIENCES.”

You shifted in your seat uncomfortably as you remembered how the date ended. But you could easily leave that detail out. Maybe. If Sans didn’t look deep inside your soul today.

“We talked a lot,” you began, “He’s really kind and funny, more relaxed when the cameras aren’t on him. He paid for the meal, and now I feel like I owe him big time. Though I suppose you could say I’m paying him back by designing his nightclub.”

“OH, I’M GLAD THE DATE WENT WELL! SO DOES THAT MEAN YOU TWO…” Papyrus leaned forward in his seat, lowering his voice as though he was about to say something scandalous. “... KISSED?”

“remember i told you to spare the gory details, kiddo,” Sans looked at you with a smirk.

“We didn’t kiss, so there aren’t any gory details to spare,” you said sharp and clear, hoping your tone would indicate that you wanted to drop the subject.

Papyrus cupped his cheeks and gasped. “WHAT?! WHY NOT?!”

You refused to admit that you chickened out. “Just didn’t get around to it.”

“THAT IS VERY ODD,” Papyrus said. “THE DATING MANUAL SAYS THAT DATES TYPICALLY END WITH A HUG OR A KISS. DID YOU GET A HUG, AT LEAST?”

“No.”

Papyrus gasped even louder. “OH NO! THEN THE DATE MUST HAVE BEEN A FAILURE!”

You stood up from your seat. “I should really get going now. Potential clients have been emailing me.”

“AW, BUT YOU NEVER LEAVE THIS SOON!” Papyrus pouted, a frown on his face.

You avoided looking at him, feeling bad for leaving so abruptly. “We’ll hang out another time. Talk to you later.”

You barely processed Papyrus’s goodbye, too focused on getting out of the brothers’ house already. You went back to Queenie’s place and went inside your room, opening your laptop to check your emails. Replying to them should be a good distraction from everything that had happened.

In the middle of typing a response to your second email, your phone buzzed.

  
  


**Sans** : how did the skeleton know it was going to rain on halloween?

  
  


You rolled your eyes, knowing he had a dumb joke up his sleeve to cheer you up. You didn’t think it would help much, but you appreciated that he was trying.

  
  


**You** : He checked the weather.

**Sans** : no, he could feel it in his bones.

**You** : Ha. Very clever.

**You** : Spare me the rest of the bad jokes. I know you’re trying to help, and the fact that you’re willing to do so is good enough for me.

**Sans** : no prob. don’t worry about whatever happened between you and mtt.

**You** : Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t worry.

**Sans** : you’re his architect, and he’s super loyal to his employees. he doesn’t even have the heart to fire the dripping slime monster who spends the day mopping up his own mess. pretty sure mtt wouldn’t fire you over not getting a kiss. he’s way too sympathetic for that.

  
  


Your head felt clearer upon reading that. He made a convincing argument, and at this point you trusted whatever insights Sans had come up with. You couldn’t help but admire how brilliant the man was.

  
  
  


**You** : Huh. That does change how I view this whole situation. Thanks, Sans. Giving me a rational explanation helps way more than cheering me up with terrible jokes.

**Sans** : heh. glad i tried a different approach, then. you and mtt will smooth things out. take care, kiddo.

**You** : You too.

  
  


You put your phone down, feeling a bit better now. Part of you knew that although he acted the part, Sans wasn’t a psychic, so he very well could be wrong. But you couldn’t afford to be so worrisome right now; you had more emails to catch up on, and you needed to check on your house today.

After you finished responding back to clients, your phone buzzed again.

  
  


**Mettaton** : Hello there, darling. I looked through my schedule, and found some times for a two-hour block at the meeting room: Tuesday at 5:00PM and Thursday at 3:00PM. Would any of those times work for you?

  
  


When you saw it was Mettaton, you set your phone down and exhaled the biggest sigh of relief. Everything was fine, he still wanted you for the job. You decided to go with Thursday, because you needed the extra time to work on making more detailed drawings of the models.

  
  


**You** : Hello, Mettaton. Let’s meet on Thursday at 3:00. I’m about halfway finished with the drawings, they’re coming along great so far.

**Mettaton** : Perfect! I look forward to seeing you and your drawings.

**You** : I look forward to seeing you too.

  
  


You were glad that things were still civil between the both of you, but you still feared that the next meet-up would be awkward. After all, he hadn’t even mentioned the date or anything that occurred during it; it was almost like he was pretending it never even happened. The thought saddened you, but at least you two were still on good terms.

***

On Thursday, you waited at the lobby of MTT Resort as usual. You were anxious considering that the last time you had seen Mettaton, things didn’t end off on the right note. But you weren’t going to let your nerves get in the way while you were in a professional environment. You just wanted to be as efficient as possible and get the job done.

Five minutes to 3:00, Box Mettaton wheeled towards you with a smiley face on his lights.

“Hello, darling,” he greeted you. “Got the drawings all done?”

You smiled back at him. “Yes, let’s see what you think of them.”

The two of you went inside the meeting room, sitting down next to each other. As you set down your bag and opened it, the contents slid onto the table. On top of the pile was a book titled _The History of Humans and Monsters_ , by Gerson Boom.

Mettaton glanced at the cover. “Gerson wrote a book?”

“Oh, do you know him?” you asked.

“Yes, he’s an old man who used to run a shop close to Blooky’s house Underground. He always told stories and talked everyone’s ears off. A lot happened in his life, it makes sense that he’d want to put it down on paper.”

“I’ve studied some monster history before moving to Ebott Grove, but I want to learn even more now that I’m surrounded by monsters,” you said. “So I’ve been checking out books on it at the library—err, or should I say, _librarby.”_

Mettaton chuckled. “Well, darling, since you have an interest in human and monster history, I have an offer for you. I’m taking Frisk back-to-school shopping next Monday, would you like to join us? They’re one of the most groundbreaking historical figures at the tender age of thirteen, and they’d be happy to tell you about their time Underground.”

You widened your eyes. You had heard so much about Frisk, and now you had the opportunity to meet them. They were only a child, but meeting them carried the same honor as meeting the President. Knowing that Mettaton still wanted to hang out with you made you feel relieved, too.

You grinned. “Certainly! What time will we go?”

“I’ll come get you at Blooky’s place by 11:00AM. Then we’ll pick up Frisk, so we can beat the crowd before noon.”

You nodded. “Okay, that sounds great!”

“I’m glad you’re coming along!” Mettaton exclaimed. “Anyway, sorry for getting off-track, gorgeous. Let’s look at those drawings now.”

You showed him the drawings you had made. Five for the interior, and another five for the exterior. They weren’t super elaborate because you wanted to reserve your artistic energy for Mettaton’s final choices. But they were detailed enough, and he was still impressed by them.

“I really like what’s going on here and here,” he said, gesturing to one interior drawing and one exterior. “The layout inside feels the most natural and easy for customers to walk around, and the outside of the nightclub feels exactly like moi.”

You smiled. “Yeah, I had my eyes on those particular ones too. I’ll push those designs further now that you’ve settled on them, and then I’ll start making 3D models.”

“So are there any other things you’d like for me to add to the final versions?” you asked. “Any extras to the outside of the building? Maybe any decor you’d like to add in or take out? Should we change the sizes for any of the rooms?”

You two spent the rest of the time brainstorming. In the end, Mettaton decided on a few extras: more seats downstairs to accommodate more people who needed a quick break from dancing, more lights on the stage, and more art of Mettaton hanging on the walls of the lounge area. This was going to be the most expensive project you’d ever seen a single client take on.

After jotting notes down, you looked at him. “I have other clients to meet with this week, but I’ll make it my goal to get started on the final drawings this Sunday. So you have a couple of days to think of any extra ideas, if you happen to have any. If you do, then just text me, and I can easily weave it in if it’s something minor. Though if it’s something major, we should schedule a meeting to discuss it.”

You clapped your hands together. “But other than that, we’re almost done with the design process. Once I have the last drawings done, I can just text them to you to confirm they’re all good, so we don’t need to meet up for that unless you need me to make huge adjustments. After all, one less meeting here will save you time and money. But we’ll meet up when I have the 3D models all done. I’ll bring my laptop with me so I can easily make adjustments as needed, and then we can start hiring a team to build our design.”

“That all sounds fine and good,” Mettaton began, before dramatically bringing a hand to where his forehead should be. “But one less meeting means one less opportunity to spend time with me, darling!”

You smirked. “Well, we can hang out to make up for that.”

“That makes it all better, then,” Mettaton chuckled. “We’ll find a time to meet when we’re both free. At least for now, we can go shopping with Frisk. By the way, I did tell Alphys about you wanting to meet her, and she was ecstatic. She’s away at a conference presenting a thesis on monster SOULs right now, so we’ll have to wait until she comes back to hang out with her.”

“Okay, no problem,” you nodded. “Thanks for being so willing to introduce us.”

“Trust me, between me and her girlfriend, the woman could do with more friends,” he said. “No matter how much she denies it and holes herself inside watching anime, you can see she’s desperate for attention.”

“You’re one to talk,” you quipped with a smirk.

Mettaton laughed. “At least my thirst for attention has left me more than quenched. I’m just trying to help out Alphys here.”

“True,” you nodded, closing your notebook. “Well, I’ll let you know when I’m finished with the last drawings. After that, we can schedule the next meeting to look at the 3D models. But for now, I look forward to seeing you and Frisk on Monday.”

“Oh, yes. Be ready by 11:00AM, darling.”

Mettaton walked you to your car after you packed all your belongings. Before you could say goodbye, he wrapped his noodly metallic arms around you. You widened your eyes before you realized what was going on, then slowly hugged him back. Or at least, you tried. His rectangular body made it difficult. But it still felt nice, since it was Mettaton you were hugging.

He pulled away and rested his hand on your arm. “I know it’s a bit uncomfortable to hug me in this form, but I just couldn’t resist,” he chuckled and let go of your arm. “Well, take care, dear.”

Still stunned by what had just happened, you stammered, “Y-yeah. You too.”

He wheeled away back to the hotel as you got inside your car. While you drove, you couldn’t help but wonder how he was able to ignore that you had dodged the kiss. He was a confident, self-assured man, so you thought he would face the issue head-on and talk to you about it. Maybe he just wanted to sweep it under the rug and move on. And if you were being honest with yourself, you were more than willing to let him do that; you’d much rather be let off the hook than be confronted. But something told you that this wasn’t the best way to handle the problem. You swallowed the lump forming in your throat and gripped the steering wheel, telling yourself to just focus on the road.

***

By 10:45 on Monday, you were at Blooky’s place, dressed up and ready to go. You used the spare time you had to show them some new music you had been listening to. 

During the repetitive part of a song, you interjected, “You know, Blooky, you should come along with us. Mettaton and Frisk would want to hang out with you.”

“oh, i wanna hang out with them too,” they said. “even though i have no reason going into clothing stores being incorporeal, it’d be fun to be with my friends…”

You smiled. The Napstablook you had first met would have been quick to decline the invitation out of shyness. They had been making progress, and you were proud of them.

Around 11:00, Mettaton entered the house in his EX form, beaming when he saw you and Napstablook.

“Good morning, my darlings!” he exclaimed in a singsong voice.

“Hey, Mettaton,” you said with a smile. “Blooky said they want to come with us, if that’s alright with you and Frisk.”

“That’s more than alright! In fact, I was planning on dragging Blooky to the limo,” Mettaton chuckled. “Come now, you two, we have a soon-to-be eighth grader to pick up!”

The three of you went in the limo, starting on the short drive to Frisk’s house. You arrived, and Mettaton beckoned you and Napstablook to come out with him.

Mettaton rang the doorbell, and a tall goat woman answered. You swore you recognized her from somewhere. Then it occurred to you: she was the former queen from the statue at the golden flower garden. You didn’t know how to act around her because you had never met royalty before, so you just stuck by Mettaton’s side and hoped for the best.

She smiled warmly at the three of you. “Oh, good morning, Mettaton and Napstablook,” she greeted, before looking at you with kindness in her eyes. “And you must be the human who recently moved to town. Sans and Papyrus have told me about you. I am Toriel, Frisk’s mother and a kindergarten teacher at Ebott Elementary. It is so nice to finally meet you.”

Man, you really were the talk of the town. Back in Sky City, you felt like a nobody—just another fish swimming in the sea. But in Ebott Grove, you actually mattered. Even though you valued your privacy, it was great feeling like you belonged.

You smiled as Toriel extended her arm towards you. You shook her big furry paw, your own hand becoming engulfed by it. “It’s nice to meet you too, Toriel. Sans and Papyrus have told me about you as well.” You told her your name before adding, “I’m an architect who’s currently designing Mettaton’s nightclub.”

“And, my oh my, is she doing a damn good job!” Mettaton piped in.

You blushed and laughed softly as Toriel replied, “So I have heard. Papyrus has been showing Sans and I his dance moves. He is already very good! Just imagine how amazing he will be by the time the nightclub is finished.”

You chuckled. “He’s always determined to be the best.”

Toriel smiled. “Come inside while I go and get Frisk, you three. It is much cooler in here.”

You, Mettaton, and Napstablook came inside the house, welcomed by the scent of butterscotch and cinnamon. If this is what Frisk came home to after school every day, then they were a damn lucky child.

As Toriel went to the hallway, you caught a glimpse of something peculiar. It was a plush doll of Toriel herself, but her head was covered with a bag that had Mettaton EX’s face printed on it.

You raised a brow, and tapped Mettaton on his arm. “Uh… care to give me an explanation behind _that?”_ you asked, pointing at the offending plushie.

He laughed. “Why, would you like one of your own?”

“What’s so wrong with Toriel’s face that it should be disguised with yours?”

He chuckled. “Absolutely nothing. This plush doll was a merch idea I had before moving to the surface, and Frisk and Toriel thought it was funny. Just for the record, it’s completely optional to put the bag over her head. And I’ve split the profits between her and I. She was the main inspiration behind the design, after all.”

“I suppose that’s better than a plush doll of her body with your head sewed onto it,” you smirked.

Toriel emerged from the hallway with Frisk, and you were taken aback for a second. Mettaton had told you they were thirteen now, but you were used to seeing their eight-year-old self after they had broken down the barrier. They had hit a huge growth spurt, and they very well could have been at their adult height already.

“Mettaton! Blooky!” Frisk grinned, running up to Mettaton to give him a hug. He smiled as he wrapped his arms around them.

“Hello, Frisk darling. It’s been quite awhile, hasn’t it? There’s someone I’d like you to meet,” he pulled away from the hug and gestured to you, telling Frisk your name. “She’s my friend, and also the architect behind my nightclub. She’s coming with us because she’s eager to hear about how you broke the barrier.”

Your ears rang at the sound of Mettaton referring to you as his friend. You weren’t sure how to feel about that after having gone on a great date with him, despite the way it ended. Still, it was better than Mettaton calling you his ‘ex-architect’ or ‘the one that got away’. At this point, you were just happy to have him in your life at all.

You smiled and waved at Frisk. “Yep, that’s me. It’s nice to meet you, Frisk.”

“Oh, hey, I recognize you,” they said. “Some pictures of you and Mettaton have been going around online.”

Your heart leapt in your throat. _Dammit,_ you knew this was going to happen, and now you couldn’t take it back. You’ve been so busy the past couple of days answering emails and working on the drawings, you were too exhausted to even scroll through social media. Your mind flurried with paranoia as you thought about the conflated things people were saying about you and Mettaton.

“Oh…” you said quietly, before clearing your throat and speaking at a regular volume. “I didn’t know that. Well, whatever they’ve been saying, please don’t let it cloud your judgment of me.”

Frisk shrugged. “I didn’t see anything too bad. People were mostly just wondering if you were Mettaton’s new girlfriend or not.”

Your face turned red. Having Toriel, Napstablook, and Mettaton himself in the room made everything much worse. You wished that a black hole would appear and just swallow you up already.

“Uh, well, as Mettaton said, we’re just friends, so,” you cleared your throat, “yeah.”

“Anyway, let’s go now, darlings!” Mettaton butted in, making you feel even more embarrassed about being put on the spot. “We’ve got a mall to conquer and clothes to buy!”

“You know I appreciate you doing this, Mettaton, but please don’t overspend,” Toriel advised him. “Frisk is a growing child. What fits them now may not fit in a couple years’ time.”

Mettaton raised a hand defensively. “Nonsense, dear. Frisk freed monsterkind from an eternal prison, the least I can do as thanks is to buy them whatever they want!”

Toriel had a look of disapproval on her face, but it faltered as she sighed. “If you must buy lots of clothing for Frisk, make sure they’re good quality and they actually like them.”

Before Toriel could lecture Mettaton more, the four of you said goodbye to her. Right before you turned towards the door, she gave you a smile with a sympathetic look in her eyes. It reminded you of the way Sans would see right through you, and it sent a chill down your spine. She _knew_ how you were feeling about Mettaton.

In the limo, you sat between Frisk and Mettaton. Shortly after the chauffeur drove off, Frisk leaned forward and pretended to grab a bottle of whiskey from the mini bar, watching Mettaton to make sure he wasn’t looking.

Mettaton laughed and shook his head when he noticed. “Sorry, darling, but you’ll have to wait eight years until you can take a swig of that. Tell you what, I’ll take you out for drinks on your twenty-first birthday!”

“Sans already let me have a sip of his beer while Mom was in the room,” Frisk said with a smirk.

Mettaton chuckled. “Oh, how outrageous! How did your mom react?”

“She just laughed and shrugged it off, but made sure Sans wouldn’t do it again,” Frisk said. “It’s a good thing she likes him, or else she would have let him have it.”

You widened your eyes. If Sans and Toriel were a thing, then Sans sure was keeping quiet about it. You felt a sense of scandal for knowing something that Sans probably would have preferred to keep private, but you were still intrigued nonetheless.

The four of you arrived at Highland Mall. Mettaton showed Napstablook and Frisk the empty lot next to it that would soon be replaced with his nightclub. You all went inside the mall afterwards, and Mettaton placed a hand on Frisk’s shoulder.

“Well, darling, this is _your_ shopping trip. Lead the way!”

Frisk began walking around aimlessly as you, Mettaton, and Napstablook followed them. Mettaton had on a disguise, so the lot of you were (virtually) safe from encountering a barrage of fans.

Frisk walked inside a clothing store, going back and forth between the men’s and women’s sections. They came up with nothing, and eventually turned around to look at Mettaton.

“To be honest, I don’t know what to get,” they said, shrugging their shoulders. “I only agreed to this because you offered, and I just wanted to hang out with you again.”

Mettaton smiled bittersweetly. “Oh, dear, it has been too long, hasn’t it? I’m sorry I’ve been so busy, but I’m glad we’re able to hang out right now,” he paused for a moment, thinking to himself. “Oh, I know! Since you don’t know what to get, would you like to have me as your fashion consultant?”

“Sure, who better to have than you?” Frisk said with a smile.

Mettaton grinned and clapped his hands together. “How wonderful! I was going to stay out of it and let you choose whatever you wanted. I know teenagers want their own sense of style, and they don’t want their parents to pick out their clothes anymore. But I’m more than happy you’re letting me do that!”

“You’re not my parent,” Frisk refuted lightheartedly.

“Maybe not by blood, but I’m like your cool older brother. In a way, that’s a parental figure,” Mettaton countered.

Frisk laughed. “Fine, I’ll let you have that.”

As Mettaton went through the racks picking out clothes for Frisk, you told them about your interest in their adventures Underground. They recounted the tale from the beginning. Napstablook was among one of the first monsters they met, and Blooky smiled as they remembered how Frisk cheered them on. Though you were shocked to hear that someone like Toriel would challenge a child (especially one she now called her own), you understood her motivations behind her actions. 

The mood picked up as Frisk told you about Sans and Papyrus’s shenanigans, though you were frightened by how bloodthirsty Undyne was. But the fact that she let her guard down around a determined, yet innocent child like Frisk showed how good of a person she really was.

By the time Frisk began talking about Alphys and Mettaton, the latter had a pensive look on his face. When you found out Mettaton had hired people to kill Frisk before trying to kill them himself, Mettaton immediately jumped to his defense.

“That’s not the _full_ story. I had good motivations behind it,” he said. You sensed he was afraid that his old schemes would affect the way you saw him.

“How would you justify attempting to murder an eight-year-old child, who now happens to be your kind-of sibling?” you asked playfully, trying to let him know you weren’t revolted and you were open to hearing his side of the story.

“I had to think quickly before Frisk could get to Asgore,” Mettaton began. “If he killed them, he’d use their soul to cross the barrier and wage war on humanity, as payback for murdering his children and banishing monsterkind to the Underground. With the seventh human soul in my possession, I would’ve been able to stop Asgore from wreaking havoc on humanity. Not only that, I’d finally have the opportunity to become a star on the surface.”

You thought about it for a moment. “When you put it that way, it makes sense,” you said. “It’s a morally grey scenario, but I can’t deny that you were being considerate of _humans_ : the very people you were supposed to hate. You were standing up for what was right.”

“Exactly,” Mettaton said. “I’m glad my plan didn’t work in the end, though. If I killed Frisk, they wouldn’t be here, spending time with their cool older brother,” Mettaton smiled and patted them on the head. “Besides, I already apologized by baking them a cake that said, ‘Sorry I tried to kill you’ in pink frosting.”

“Don’t forget all the sequins and glitter you put on the cake,” Frisk piped in. “It looked like an art project I’d make in second grade.”

“I still don’t understand why you’re complaining about that,” Mettaton scoffed. “I mean, you ate the Glamburger with no problems.”

“Did you _not_ see the grimace on my face when I ate it?”

“No, I must have been too busy preparing my next attack,” Mettaton said. “But I eventually caved in and made MTT Brand Edible Glitter and Sequins meant for humans, and I baked you a second cake with all that sprinkled on.”

“And it tasted way better,” Frisk assured him.

You looked at Napstablook and laughed, shaking your head as you listened to Mettaton and Frisk’s banter.

“Meanwhile, your _cousin_ here hardly gave me any problems,” Frisk said, walking closer to Napstablook. “Well, mostly because they were crying and pretending to sleep when I first met them. But they weren’t trying to hurt me; they don’t have a single bad bone in their body.”

“actually, i don’t have any bones in my body at all…” Napstablook said.

You and Mettaton chuckled. “Now, Frisk-darling, my arms are getting quite full,” Mettaton said. “I think it’s time for you to try on these clothes now. Don’t forget to strike a pose when you show them off!”

Frisk looked at the collection of clothes in Mettaton’s arm. There were lots of pinks, greys, blacks, and whites. They grimaced.

“Oh God,” Frisk began, “you’re trying to turn me into a Mini Mettaton.”

“You’re saying that like it’s a bad thing!” Mettaton laughed, mock pouting.

“There can be only one Mettaton, though,” you piped in. “You’re irreplaceable.”

You had barely thought about your words before they slipped out. You realized the way you spoke made it sound like you were gushing over Mettaton. It seemed to have not gotten lost on him either, since the tiny pixelated hearts quickly showed up in his eyes.

“I know I am, darling,” Mettaton said with a smile sweet enough to rot your teeth. “But I’ll make an exception for Frisk, I’ll allow them to steal my style.”

The four of you went to the dressing rooms. Frisk stepped inside one as you, Mettaton, and Napstablook waited outside. Whenever Frisk showed off the clothes to the three of you, they posed with a flamboyance that nearly rivaled Mettaton’s. You laughed at their most ridiculous poses as Mettaton took pictures of them. At one point, Mettaton made you and Napstablook join in with Frisk—before he hopped in and took a selfie of the four of you. 

In the end, Frisk decided to go with three shirts, a pair of pants, and a jacket. Mettaton happily paid for all of it before you moved on to the next store.

This store had more refined taste than the last one, catering more to adults. You found yourself eyeing a shirt that was just your style, but you resisted the temptation because this shop was upscale and expensive. But Mettaton was going through the rack it hung on as he gathered clothes for Frisk, and he saw you staring at the shirt.

He picked it up off the rack and held it against you. “That would look absolutely beautiful on you. You should try it on, dear.”

You looked at the price tag and grimaced. “The price tag begs to differ.”

“Prices rarely matter when I’m paying.”

You raised a brow. “... Are you sure you want to buy it for me?”

“Of course, darling. It won’t make a dent in my bank account.”

You were silent for a moment before you took the shirt from his hand. “Your generosity is going to kill me one day,” you sighed.

“I believe the phrase is ‘curiosity killed the cat’, not ‘generosity killed the cat’,” he said before continuing to gather more clothes for Frisk.

As you, Frisk, and Napstablook followed Mettaton around the store, Frisk leaned in and whispered: 

“Mettaton likes you.”

You refused to admit that your heart skipped a beat upon hearing that. Although Frisk was mature for their age, this was exactly the kind of behavior you expected from a thirteen-year-old. You just shrugged, and hoped the conversation wouldn’t progress any further than that. But it did.

“He’s insistent on buying you that shirt,” Frisk said. “He’s made of money, but he wouldn’t spend it on just anyone.”

You remained silent and stared straight ahead, hoping it would be a hint that you didn’t want to hear anymore of this. Thankfully, Frisk let you be.

When Mettaton finished journeying through the store, you and Frisk tried on your clothes. The shirt fit you just right, and you struck a dramatic pose when you showed it off to your friends. Mettaton grinned as he took a picture of you. He then joined in to take a selfie of the two of you, before inviting Frisk and Napstablook to come into the frame. After Frisk settled on the clothes they wanted, the four of you walked to the cash register.

Frisk leaned in and whispered to you again: 

“He even took a selfie of you two alone. If that’s not a sign he likes you, there’ll be many more to come.”

You stayed quiet, deciding that would be the best option from here on out. If you said nothing, no one would know your true thoughts about your situation with Mettaton.

After eating at the food court and visiting several more stores, you all were on the limo ride back home. Mettaton couldn’t resist buying you more things that caught your eye, so you ended up with a few bags in your hands. You swore you were going to feel in debt to him for the rest of your life.

The limo approached Toriel’s house, and you all got out to walk Frisk to the front porch. Toriel opened the door, astonished by all the bags in Frisk’s hands.

“Oh my,” she said. “That’s more than enough clothing to fill a suitcase.”

Mettaton laughed. “Frisk is going to be the most stylish kid in school. I’ll be there every morning to roll out the red carpet when they walk to class.”

Toriel gave Mettaton a quizzical look. “I feel as though if you were going to splurge all this money on Frisk, it would best go towards their college tuition… but I suppose I should thank you for covering their clothing costs for the next year.”

“I’m always happy to help, Your Majesty,” Mettaton said before catching his mistake, raising a hand to his lips. “Oh, my apologies. Force of habit,” he chuckled.

Toriel laughed. “Do not worry, you are not the only one who has made that slip-up,” she then turned to you with a smile. “Again, it was so nice to meet you. You should join Sans and Papyrus when they come over. Or you can come by yourself, you’re welcome here no matter what. It is just Frisk and I who live here, and there is plenty of space in the house for more than two people.”

You smiled. “Thank you, I’ll be sure to come over one of these days. It was nice to meet you and Frisk as well,” you grinned as you looked down at them. “You’re one of the coolest kids I know. Good luck with the new school year! If you ever need a ride to school or a math tutor, just let me know. Math is part of my job as an architect, and I know it’s a difficult subject for some students, so I’d be more than happy to help.”

“Oh, thank _God_ ,” Frisk said. “The last tutor I had was so boring, and I didn’t understand anything they said. So I’m gonna need your help big time.”

You chuckled. “Sure, just let me know when you need me. I can give you and your mom my number.” You said it out loud for them, and they both typed it in their phones. You couldn't help but stare at Toriel all the while. You were amazed that she was an old woman with large paws, who navigated her phone with as much dexterity as her teenage child.

She noticed you staring and laughed. “If you’re curious to know, Sans taught me how to use my cell phone.”

You smirked. “Where would we all be without Sans?”

“Oh my, no kidding,” she said, with an almost reflective look in her eye. You found that interesting, combined with Frisk’s comment about their mom liking Sans. You wondered if you could ever get Toriel or Sans to open up about how they felt for the other, but they seemed like private people, and you didn’t want to pry into their lives. Besides, you yourself were uncomfortable opening up about your feelings towards Mettaton, so you understood how they felt.

“Well, goodbye for now, darlings!” Mettaton piped in before kneeling down to Frisk. “I’ll let you know when we can hang out again soon, Frisk dear. Have fun on your first day at school!”

“Bye, Mettaton!” Frisk said, setting their bags down before hugging him. They bid you goodbye and hugged you as well, and you were honored that they already seemed to consider you a friend. They said bye to Napstablook too, and gave them an air hug that made your heart melt.

You and the cousins returned to the limo, and soon made it back to Napstablook’s place. You said bye to Blooky before they went inside their house, and you found yourself standing outside alone with Mettaton beside your car. The scene gave you deja vu, and a sick feeling took over your stomach.

“Did you have fun today, dear?” he asked.

“Yes... I really did. Thank you for taking me out and buying _all_ this stuff,” you said, raising the bags. You then opened the backseat of your car and put them inside, before looking at Mettaton again.

“My pleasure. You looked gorgeous in all of the clothes.”

You blushed, but tried to keep your cool. “Thank you.” 

“So, uh…” you scratched the back of your neck nervously, “I’ll let you know when I’m finished with the final drawings. But I remember you also said you wanted to hang out, just the two of us. I’ve been busier because I have a few more interested clients, but I’d be more than willing to make time for you.”

Mettaton smiled. “That would be great! I’ve been the one offering places for us to go, so I’ll let you choose this time. Do you have anything in mind?”

You tried to wrack your brain for ideas. “Um…” you said, worried that your ideas of hanging out were boring compared to his. You felt a bit guilty that he had already shelled out so much money for you, so you just wanted to do something more laidback and less expensive. “Uh… maybe we could go to Muffet’s Web for some pastries and visit the echo flower garden? It’d be neat to listen to others’ wishes and make one of my own. But, uh, if that sounds too boring we can do something el—”

Mettaton cut you off by clapping a hand over your mouth. “Nonsense. As long as I’m with you, I’m happy to go just about anywhere.”

You smiled sheepishly as he lowered his hand from your mouth. “Al-alright… so... how about Thursday? I’ve got a couple of meetings, but I’m free anytime after 6:00PM.”

“That’s perfect! I’ll be done with rehearsals before then, and the echo flowers look prettiest when they glow at night. Maybe we can make it to Muffet’s at 7:00, before the sun sets?”

You grinned. “Sounds good. I’ll see you then.”

“I look forward to seeing you again, darling,” he said. “But before you go…”

Mettaton wrapped his arms around you and held you close to his body. You repeated the gesture, and it was much more comfortable hugging his EX form than his box body. What you didn’t expect was him lifting you off the ground and holding you even tighter. You instinctively moved your arms so they were now around his neck, and you wrapped your legs around his waist for extra security, in case he accidentally dropped you.

You laughed nervously when he gently set you back down. “Wow. I felt like a koala clinging to a tree.”

Mettaton chuckled. “Best hug you’ve ever had?”

You felt your cheeks getting hot again. “Admittedly, yes.”

“Well, there’s plenty more where that came from,” he ruffled your hair. “Goodbye for now, gorgeous.”

You smiled up at him. “Bye...”

You got into your car and waved at him before pulling out, starting on the drive back home. You couldn’t stop replaying the hug in your head, how warm and sturdy his body felt. You wished it had lasted longer, but at the same time you were glad it didn’t; you would have short-circuited before your robot crush could.

You arrived home and brought in your bags, setting them on the floor. When you laid down in bed to relax, you saw some texts from Mettaton. He sent you all the photos he had taken today. You cherished all of them, but you spent the longest time staring at the one of just the two of you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every time I see content of Frisk and Mettaton bonding, my life span goes up one year. On the other hand, thinking about how Toriel and Mettaton would interact makes me laugh. Out of all the non-romantic pairings between two Undertale characters, they would probably have the least chemistry—mostly because of Toriel's attitude towards Mettaton. He would be respectful towards her, but she would just think, 'This man is way too much, but I guess I'll tolerate him because he takes good care of Frisk.'
> 
> Anyway, things are starting to get a bit unpredictable between Mettaton and Reader. We'll see what happens next! As always, comments are much appreciated. :)


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